Elysha was hit by a car last week.
Her car wasn’t hit by a car. She was hit by a car.
While crossing a parking lot from Dunkin Donuts to her car, coffee in hand, a car hit her. He punched her with its bumper. Knocked her onto the pavement hard enough to send others running to assist.
She skinned and bruised her knee. Banged her hand. Bruised her body.
It was no joke.
Three days later, she’s still in pain.
A few interesting things about the incident:
My sister, Kelli, was hit by a car while running across a highway in her twenties. Nearly died.
My brother, Jeremy, was hit by a car when he was about ten years old while riding his bike. I witnessed the accident. He was knocked unconscious. Broke his arm. Serious stuff.
I’ve been hit by a car twice. Both times in parking lots. Probably very similar to Elysha’s accident.
I was walking across the Boston Market parking lot about 25 years ago when a car came around the corner and hit me, throwing me through the air and knocking all of the food from my arms. I hit the pavement with my head, probably giving me a concussion. Hurt like hell for days.
In the summer of 1991, I was delivering food to a parked car while working at a McDonald’s in Norwood, Massachusetts, when a car hit me. Knocked me down hard. Tore my hands open and smashed my knee.
When I asked Elysha – just a few months ago – if it was weird that all three siblings had been struck by automobiles at some point in our lives, she said, “Yes.”
Emphatically.
Like it was strange even to ask.
New question:
Is it even weirder that all three siblings, plus the spouse of one sibling, have now been hit by cars?
I suspect she might say yes.
Nevertheless, she has joined our exclusive club.
It was also fascinating to note the differences in our reactions to being hit by cars.
When I was hit by cars – both times – my instantaneous reaction was to kill the driver. I was filled with rage and violence. I leaped to my feet in anger, ready to punch someone as many times as possible.
When I arrived at the Dunkin Donuts just minutes after the accident, I found Elysha sitting at a table inside the store with the young woman who had just hit her and another woman who had witnessed the accident. After Elysha and I embraced and shared a private moment, she introduced me to her vehicular assailant and expressed concern that the driver might be upset or feeling guilty.
She expressed this sentiment many times.
Let’s be clear:
The driver of the car was definitely at fault. It was oddly snowing that morning, so Elysha was dressed in a nearly head-to-toe bright green winter coat that nearly doubled her size. It’s big and poofy, so Elysha was big and poofy. She was impossible to miss. And Elysha was halfway to her car when she was hit. She did not step into traffic or stumble into the car’s path.
She was walking through the center of the lane when this young woman drove into her.
Yet Elysha continued to assure the driver not to worry.
My reaction:
It was about the same as when I had been hit by cars. Not exactly rage and no desire for violence, but I was angry with the woman, knowing how easily this accident could’ve been a lot worse.
She did not slide into Elysha. The snow wasn’t falling hard enough to obscure her vision. She just plowed into my wife with her car, almost certainly because she was distracted by her phone, her coffee, or something else.
So I wasn’t concerned about the driver’s mental state. I didn’t care if she was worried. In fact, I wanted her to be worried. I thought she should be terrified about what had just happened. As Elysha continued to reassure the driver, I glared.
Elysha also introduced me to the woman who had witnessed the accident. She somehow knew her name, her occupation, and where she had gone to elementary school. Discovered that one of her former teachers had once taught with us.
She had just been hit by a car, but she was still connecting with other human beings.
I’m only surprised that we’re not having brunch with the two women this morning.
It’s been three days since the accident, and Elysha is feeling much better. She’s been examined by doctors twice to assess her injuries, and they all appear minor. She’s not quite 100% yet, but she’s getting there.
I’m thinking about having tee shirts or hoodies made for me, my siblings, and Elysha.
Possible club names:
The Fender Benders
The Bumper Bunch
The Crosswalk Crusaders
The Road Warriors
I don’t like any of them very much. I’m looking for a name that says, “We got hit by two tons of metal on wheels and survived because we’re bad-ass pedestrians.”
So maybe that. It’s wordy but accurate.
