Chance

“An unfortunate incident that happens unexpectedly and unintentionally, typically resulting in damage or injury.” Accident is from the Latin verb accidere signifying “fall upon, befall, happen, chance.” Chance…somehow that word stands out to me in that long list of syllables which strung together lead to sadness.

I feel like there’s so much back story to tell that you will not truly understand the impact without the history. In as few words as possible…. I was in a serious car accident in high school that changed my life. I had scars, problems with college (after being high school valedictorian), and likely PTSD. I struggled with college at 18, dropped out, returned in my 30’s, obtained a Ph.D. at 40… and so on. Somehow that’s part of this, especially since the 25th anniversary of the high school wreck was exactly one month prior to this recent Chance encounter with the backend of an SUV.

And then there’s the back story of how I have wanted a VW Beetle convertible for oh… years. I was told it was not practical, and I bought into that for a bit. Then, one fateful day, my little LadyBug and I met…. and it was love at first sight. She is a symbol of freedom, passion, perseverance, resilience, and really of me. I engage in frequent convertible therapy as I lovingly refer to my top down, hair blowing, stereo blaring, glorious rides that make me feel alive. It was one of those rides that lead to my recent date with Chance.

I left work about 3 minutes early, and I was a bit giddy. I felt mischievous for sneaking out early.  It was Friday afternoon after a very long week at work. I walked across campus enjoying the sun, strolled through the student union, happened across a very happy former client who was set to graduate and move on to bright things. I was so incredibly happy and keenly aware that I was in the right place at the right time… that by Chance I happened to see the client. It made my day, and the giddiness continued. I smiled as the top went down, cranked up Prince because his Royal Purpleness was the perfect convertible therapy soundtrack for that May day. I saw the bicyclist, watched an old refurbished Chevy pickup truck swerve to avoid him, and then saw a black SUV bumper right in front of me. Next I saw the windshield come closer, then the steering wheel, and then felt a jarring stop. My chest hurt from the tightness of the seatbelt. I felt panic and fear.

And so Chance…. we have met up so many times…. those serendipitous meetings that led to wonderful relationships, the phone call that took me on a wonderful adventure, and the accidents that just really pissed me off and hurt my feelings. I was having a really freaking good moment. I was in the now and happy and alive… and smack.

All things considered, the car doesn’t look too bad. It will take close to $6000 and 3 weeks to fix her, but she will be all bright and shiny. Yet, there’s a part of me that thinks she is tainted now. She isn’t 100% pure joy for me anymore, and yes I am well aware that “she” is inanimate. You know, as I said earlier, she reflects me… a more specific way to explain it is that she is my hippy girl wild side that’s carefree and doesn’t give a rat’s bootay if somebody hears me singing Prince at the top of my lungs with the top down. I guess she is also like me that she is resilient and will bounce back.

You know… we all carry our scars…. some, like me, wear them on my face and body… others, like maybe you, hold them inside. We each have smashed up hoods that we heal as best we can and go on with our day. Maybe we aren’t 100% pure joy, but really why the hell not? A big dent doesn’t make us less happy or whole. Those dents reflect our tough encounters with Chance, and we should be proud that we met up and Chance did not get the best of us.

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