… Such a lovely color (It goes with your eyes)…
I was enjoying myself driving home tonight. Crusing at a good pace on one of my favorite roads to drive on, listening to one of my favorite songs.
And I came across a flare in the road.
Ahead I could see tail lights and a waving traffic flashlight. I slow down and look. I can’t see anything, then I find the flaggers sign. The stop side is facing me. Do I get closer to him before stopping, or am I too far? I’ll stop at this flare, right where the post of my windshield blocks its light from my eyes. I watch and take everything in. The flagger talks in to his radio, the SUV of someone is on the opposite shoulder facing the same way as I. It has it flashers on and a trunk thing on its roof. There is a sheriff’s car ahead of that and what might be that fire bronco that I see driving around every once and a while in front of that.
Cars start coming at me so I let off my break to roll back. I don’t. I let off the clutch just a little to disengage the hillstart assist, and push it back in. I roll back about four feet and stop again. The light from the flare is in my eyes now. Along with the headlights. I hate having bright lights in my eyes at night. The pass and the flagger talks into his walkie-talkie again. He switches the sign, but it is so dark I can barely make out the word. “Slow.” So “slow” I go. I crawl along.
I can’t see anything but rescue vehicles on the other side of the road. I see tire tracks starting in my lane and then curving into the other lane and would result in a car crashed at a right angle with the bank. If there was a bank. But there isn’t. It is an un-bank, a drop off, a cliff. Standing at the very place the tire tracks leave the road are four men. A tow truck operator, a highway patrolman, and two firefighters.
I hoped that it wasn’t someone I knew.
Then I thought the thought that this post is really about.
Sure, I care about my friends and love them. I don’t doubt my motives in that area, but am I really more afraid for them or myself?
Am I more afraid of my pain of loss or that my friends don’t get to live?
One in three,
you’re here to tell me that we can’t do this anymore
Three in three,
I will disagree.