My car inched down Jordan Lane trying, and failing, to avoid the ridiculous number of potholes along our private lane. I turned right onto Boonville-New Harmony Road just as I did every morning.
I love the way the trees enclose this road.
My right foot lightly pressed against the gas pedal as my car barely broke 30 mph. Suddenly, my steering wheel would not shift with the windy road. I tried with all of my power to steer right but no matter how hard I prayed, I could not convince the wheel to obey.
The next moments seemed to happen in slow-motion, yet my body moved even slower than my surrounding.
There was a chilling screech as my car scraped against the side of the truck opposing me. My white Sebring bounced off the truck and began for the bare trees surrounding me. Smoke began to fill my lungs as the airbags exploded into my chest.
They say that before you die your life flashes before your eyes. The morning of January 15, 2016, my life did not flash before my eyes, but something very strange did happen. I did see that so-called light.
As my car rolled and rolled into the ditch to my right I became certain that these were the last moments of my life. The strength of a large tree stopped my momentum and for a moment also my life. In a matter of seconds, I had a conversation with God that I had never planned.
I accepted death.
I have no regrets. There is more I wanted to do, but I am dying knowing that I an going to a good place. I am ready.
Over two years later I still hear the police officer at my wreck telling me that I should have died that day. I hear him saying how he has seen many accidents way less severe than mine where people had died. It truly was a miracle.
It took me months to even try driving again. Even getting in a vehicle made my heart race and my stomach drop. The truth is, every single time I sit in the driver's seat I feel seventeen again. I am taken back to that January morning when I had no control over the fate of my life.
I avoid driving others at all costs because the possibility of being the reason for another person's death never leaves my mind. Each time I place my hands on the steering wheel I become paranoid that this one may lock too, that once again the pull of my red Toyota Camry will dominate me.
I know that to those in my life it seems ridiculous, this fear of driving that I have. But thinking you're going to die and accepting that death just to live really does something to a person. It's paralyzing to move forward with that weight on your shoulders.
It is crazy. I know it is, but that doesn't make my experience any less real. The smell of the chemicals from the airbags never leaves my nose. Each time I get dressed I see the scar on my knee from where my body slammed against the dash. I can still hear the driver side door flying open as I rammed my left shoulder into it.
To do this day, each time I drive my palms and the crook of my neck become drenched with sweat. I begin to clench my jaw as my mouth becomes dry. I turn up the music, so I can't hear the sound of my heavy breath. My body refuses to blink because I know how much can change in a matter of seconds.
I don't want your sympathy. Honestly, I just don't want to be questioned when I say I would rather not drive today.
Sometimes, I can drive without thinking once about that day. But most of the time, it takes everything in me not to be consumed by the stench of almost death.