Dear-Other-Ashley-of-the-Confused-Hit-and-Run:
A week ago, you pulled out of a parking lot in a hurry for somewhere and smashed your little truck into the side of my Ashley's vehicle where she was parked at a red light awaiting a left turn arrow on her way to work. You then left the scene for parts unknown but managed to call 911 for advice on how to handle the little situation. I want to thank you for not driving an overblown SUV or heavy double-cab pickup truck. I want to thank you for buying Geico with your money. I want to thank you for providing me with the opportunity to brush-up on my insurance knowledge. I'm even grateful for the impromptu visit to the ER. While awaiting medical treatment, me and both my girls squeezed in an afternoon nap and engaged in scintillating conversation to pass the slow ticking of minutes. And, all of us have enjoyed juggling our cars to fill the void left by the absent Pathfinder. The adjuster seemed like a nice enough fellow; I'm glad I don't have his job. You left me my daughter to live and fight traffic another day or several thousand. I am forever in your debt . . . and I'm genuinely relieved that you, too, are okay . We all have lapses in judgment!
You gave me pause.
Dear Witnesses-at-the-Scene-of-the-Accident:
The both of you were headed to your respective somewheres on that fateful February morning at the intersection of Broad Street and Medical Center Parkway. In fact, your attention was also focused on the arrow light awaiting a green-go-ahead left-turn order. Another second's pause and one of you could have been the blockage which thwarted the darting efforts of the smash-and-dash driver.
Mr. Military Man stationed right behind my daughter, you are a credit to your respective branch of the armed services as you swiftly ascertained the license plate number on that little truck as it slid down the side of my daughter's vehicle and dashed dazily on down the road. Thank you for checking on my first born and reacting with calm in the midst of instant drama. Thank you for putting such significant qualities to work for the good of our country. Thank you for expressing your willingness to be an on-the-record witness if ever she should need to call on you.
Miss Attitude who whipped her car right around and chased down the attack truck as it left the wreck in the opposite direction, you deserve an Oscar. (Oh! Is there still time to nominate you for this Sunday's awards show?) For your boldness in taking charge of the situation out of your innate sense of rightness -- thank you! For actually leaving the safety of your driver's seat and rapping sharply on the window of this escapee, "Excu-s-e me! Miss! You just hit somebody! You can't just LEAVE! Get back over there!" Knock, knock, knock . . . "Helloo-o! Miss, oh no you DIDN'T leave the scene of an accident!" -- both my admiration and my appreciation in equal generous measure. For returning to my daughter with the license number and whereabouts of the derelict dasher, thus allowing the police to retrieve her and place her back at the scene in person -- my thanks are not enough!
You gave me pause.
Dear Across-the-Street-Neighbor-Friend-Co-Worker-to-Ashley:
I was not the first on the scene for her.
I missed THE CALL from Ash because my silenced cell phone was not at my side. (This will come as a disbelieving shock to my friends who believe there is an umbilicus which extends from iPhone to my belly.) Fortunately, my husband happened to be in town on an errand that day; he was able to get through to me with the news. As he was without benefit of his hefty GMC Yukon (the very type of vehicle I am glad did not make contact with our 1995 Nissan SUV that Wednesday morn), the minutes of concern continued to tick on by until I had us both in the cab of our Chevy Silverado double-cab (yet another large-scale carnage-inflictor I'm grateful did not dent our daughter) and on our way to the scene. To drive up and find a familiar face there with our shaken and stirred girl . . . relieving her anxiety . . . conveying comfort . . . and ensuring her wholeness . . . thank you for hearing her call and answering. Thank you for always taking her under your wing. Thank you for understanding who she is and loving on her in such a Lordy way. I'm grateful for your back-up.
You gave me pause.
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