Other People’s Accidents

Dearest Rachel –

I woke up with a slight headache this morning, and I regret to inform you that it’s only increased in strength over time. Some of it may have to do with the fact that I can’t remember much of last night’s dreams, apart from a.) it (or was it they?) was (were?) interesting, while at the same time, b.) they were, for whatever reason, not suitable for publication. That latter was more from the convoluted logic within it than any salacious content (not that I would blame you for assuming that, given how well you know me), but it’s a moot point now, given that, in the several hours since waking up, it’s all basically escaped me.

It may also have to do with any efforts of trying to come up with something to tell you about – and trying to remember what dreams there were would be a part of that, as well. It’s not that life is uneventful, per se… it’s more that the real stories going on are happening to other people, and I don’t necessarily know if I have the right to relate them to you, as by definition, they’re really not mine to tell.

Granted, there are some in which the parties involved aren’t around to tell their side of the story – and that’s assuming they were even aware of what was happening to them. One of the stories that recently captured the attention of the world was this tourist submersible that disappeared en route to see the wreckage of the Titanic… and has now been determined to have contributed to the additional wreckage some two miles down. During the search after contact was lost, there was speculation as to how the passengers would be dealing with the situation, as the oxygen supply and other life support systems could only last for 96 hours. For my own part, this would have made for a terrifying experience; not only was the craft claustrophobic on its face (not that I consider myself to be particularly subject to that phobia, but in a situation such as this, I don’t think I could have kept it at bay; if nothing else, such a fear would hardly be considered ‘irrational’ at that point), but as the systems failed and the oxygen slowly ran out, the steadily increasing panic within oneself and one’s fellow passengers invites a number of scenarios worthy of Hollywood, but without the Hollywood ending of rescue and ultimate safety.

But at this point, it seems clear to investigators that this slow, suffocating process isn’t what happened at all. Rather, the moment of lost contact was the moment of death for all aboard, as the submersible basically imploded under the pressure of hundreds of atmospheres caused by the watery depths. As I hear tell, the compressive force of it would have all but liquified the bodies in a matter of micro-, if not nano-seconds. And as gruesome as that sounds, since the pain transmitters between our body and brain function on a milli-second level, it would not have taken enough time for any of these unfortunates to suffer, let alone realize what was happening to them. I’ve said that while I don’t fear death itself, the process gives me a fair amount of pause. I won’t say this is an ideal way to go by any stretch of the imagination, but the instant nature of it certainly has its advantages, especially in comparison to a prolonged, four-day descent into madness and panic. It’s not even like the latter affords the opportunity to bid farewell to those left behind, or put affairs in order, as you’re completely cut off from the outside world either way.

Honestly, it leaves me wondering what, if anything, went through your mind during those four or five hours between hitting the tree and pulling the plug. What little I saw of you was unresponsive (although I didn’t really get to see you until all hope was essentially lost), but was there anything going on within your mind throughout it all?

Speculations on what thought might have gone through others’ heads aside, this news item is far removed from my life. There are other accidents closer to home; while I may be grateful they aren’t happening to me, they’re close enough for me to tell you about, and to wonder whether I need to play a part in the aftermath.

I’m sure you recall helping Kerstin out with finding herself her latest car; you may have even helped her finance it, although I forget the particulars (I’m sure you told me something about it at the time – I may have been an enthusiastic supporter of your plan to do so, in fact – but details fade with the years. It’s why I keep writing you these days; I’ve learned that this is how to keep things in mind for the future). Well… it seems she’s been hit-and-run on, and that SUV is in sad shape. Some of the angles don’t look so bad, but if it’s not drivable, looks don’t matter

From what she says, she was at a stop sign intersection, and let a driver go through on her right without knowing that there was another guy behind him barreling through without stopping. The impact spun her around a quarter turn, and while the guy initially pulled over and to the side, apologetically admitting “Sorry, my brakes don’t work” (which rather begs the question as to why he was knowingly driving around in such a potential deathtrap, but whatever – sometimes, you just need to get around, I suppose, and repairs aren’t cheap), by the time she called 9-1-1 and the police came by, he had vanished.

Unlike those folks in the OceanGate submersible (seriously, that name is just begging to be the title of a scandal, and considering the corners evidently cut in its construction, there may well be one), she’s okay; just a little sore, shaken up and understandably upset about the car. But that’s the next thing…

Seeing as she’s now suddenly without transportation, Erin offered to give Kerstin a ride if she needed one – subject to Erin’s own schedule, of course. Now, it’s true that the girls live within a mile of each other (as opposed to the eight or so miles I am from either of them), but given the flexibility of my own schedule, I’m embarrassed that it didn’t occur to me to offer such a helping hand. For now, I’m sticking to my schedule, but I’ve seconded Erin’s offer, so that’s subject to change.

If you have what your neighbor asks for,
    don’t say, “Come back later.
    I will give it to you tomorrow.”

Proverbs 3:28, Expanded Bible

I’m pretty sure you would have done so.