Slamming on the Brakes

Occasionally, without warning, I am reminded to slow down and appreciate the things that truly feed my soul. I think of it as life's equivalent to slamming on the brakes.

Recently, a friend and I made plans to let the older girls spend the night together at their house. We were leaving a ball game (duh?) and it was already close to 11:00 PM. My daughter and I let them know that we would run home, pick up a change of clothes and toothbrush and then we'd be over. We ran by the house, gathered her things and I told my husband that I would be back in a bit. As we drove, we passed the handy Wal-Mart when my daughter remembered that she needed a couple of things for the following day's trip to the local water park. So, we pulled in, grabbed the wallet and keys, and ran in to quickly pick up a few things.

As usual, it took a while. Longer than we knew apparently. We purchased our items, jumped back in the car and headed to my friend's house. As we approached the house, I could see that my friend, her daughter and another of our daughter's friends were standing in their driveway. As we pulled in, they began running toward the car. All seemed to be frantic and crying. My heart dropped to my toes. In those split seconds between seeing them running toward the car and us getting out to greet them, hundreds of images ran through my mind. Has something happened to one of the kids? Has something happened to one of our husbands? Has something happened to anyone, someone we love? Why didn't I get a call on my cell? Oh, I left it in the car when we ran into the store and I hadn't checked it on the way. My Lord, this is bad, they are hysterical.

As we got out of the car, they grabbed us and we all stood in a group hug. They were still crying and I was saying, "What?" "What's wrong?" "What happened?" Composing herself, my friend said. "I called your house. Mac said you left already and that was over an hour ago. We heard sirens and we couldn't get you on your cell phone. I've chased the sirens trying to find them, I've called your cell phone 100 times. I called back to your house and no one answered. We thought something horrible had happened to you two and they had gone to where you were. We had to imagine what life would be like without you. We realized how much you mean to us. We realized how much we love you."

At that very moment, all of the perpetual rush hour traffic that races through my brain came to a screeching halt. For a moment, true clarity and an amazing sense of focus. But, mostly, an opportunity for a do-over. The whiplash I suffered from that moment was a needed reminder to go easy on the gas.