I have been fortunate to not have a personal story of injury of illness to tell of thus far. Yet, when my fiance got into a major car accident last year, I felt as though I too had been injured. When I met Rosario in high school, he was the only sophomore I knew that had a car. Over the years, I learned that he was a fairly safe driver--at least when I was in the car. If you compared our driving record at the time, I would seem to be the reckless driver, seeing as I crashed my very first car after a little over a month. It was a low impact collision, but nonetheless an experience I do not want to relive. On a windy evening in late November, I had to face the possibility that my fiance may not live at all.
I had just finished a conversation with Rosario about him meeting up with my parents for dinner that night. As he was leaving his house, he was explaining to me that he was running late and hoped he would make it there on time. I didn't think much of it, just that hopefully he wouldn't keep my parents waiting. Besides, there wasn't much I could do to help. I was in Los Angeles attending college, and he was in Northern California where we grew up. So, after I hung up with him, I called my mother to let her know the situation. As I was getting ready to wrap up the dialogue with her, I received another call. We said our goodbyes, and I was surprised to see Rosario calling me again. However, when I answered the voice was not that of my hurried fiance that I had spoken to only minutes before.
The voice on the other end was awkward and hesitant as they struggled to get to whatever point they were trying to get across. I was quite a annoyed that this strange person was not making much sense, and not handing the phone to Rosario. The man was speaking too slowly for my growingly bewildered state. Suddenly, in the midst of my demands to give Rosario the phone, the man broke from his calm demeanor and said, "Rosario just got into a car accident!" I was silent for only a moment before my fear masked as skepticism took hold of me. I began to furiously question the man's identity and why he would joke about such a serious matter.
"I am not joking. I am a friend of Rosario's. He just went over the side of the highway on 101 South. He's going to be okay though." The man's eerie placidity returned and made me even more panicked. So many questions tore through my mind as the overwhelming feeling of terror and helplessness washed over my body in a cold wave. The fact that this man was talking, and not Rosario was an immediate indicator that his last statement regarding Rosario's well-being was likely a emotionally protecting facade. A facade that clearly did not live up to it's intentions because I burst into a fit of tears as I began pacing the room and demanding to talk to my fiance. The man then told me to calm down, and that he had to get off the phone because the ambulance had arrived. As soon as he hung up, I fought through tears to try and pack some things into a bag so I could make the six hour drive to Northern California.
By the grace of God, I arrived five and a half hours later to find that Rosario was in stable condition. It was hard to see his body look so fragile all bandaged up, his face so swollen he was hardly recognizable. His recovery from that day forward had been tough, but he healed faster than anyone would have expected from the victim of a car crash that left a Honda Civic crushed like a can. Since then, I have gained such a grateful attitude toward every automotive trip I take, and I cherish every day that I am able to have Rosario with me alive and healthy. I thought I knew before, theoretically, how fleeting life is. Now, I truly know that life can be unpredictable and short but there are a few who are blessed with the rare opportunity to rise from the flaming ruins and live.
