Last night, while driving home from Newark Airport, my car crossed three lanes, spun around once or twice and slammed into a concrete barrier.
The car was totaled
I walked away unscathed.
I hate clicheâ€”but here’s cliche. I sit here, in front of my computer, counting my blessings, holding my kids extra tight, looking at my wife with unparalleled love and appreciation, smelling the occasionally foul, oft-beautiful scent that is life.
This was the closest I’ve ever come to death, and it scared me. The old line is rightâ€”everything moves in extreme slow motion when you’re involved in something like this. As I sat spinning, wondering whether an 18-wheeler was about to end me, I heard a momentary voice say, “You’ll be OK.” I don’t think it was God or Jesus or Berenyi. I think it was me, knowing/believing/hoping that somehow it wasn’t my time.