Sometimes, it really doesn’t matter.
I try to eat healthy. I try to cut my intake of alcohol to twice a week and even then that might be too much. I constantly walk everywhere with Bo in tow. I meditate. I pray. Mentally, I’m probably the healthiest I’ve been in a long while. Physically, I’m getting there.
But sometimes, it doesn’t matter.
Tonight, M. and I went to a vigil for the woman who was hit by the car. She died a few days ago and the police are still looking for the driver. It was the second vigil we went to this year in our neighborhood because our main street is one of the busiest (and deadliest) in all of Los Angeles.
This one hit pretty close to home. I didn’t know Yolanda and I might have seen her around the neighborhood. Yolanda was a wife and a mother. She simply stopped by the store to get something on the way home from work when she was killed in the crosswalk.
You see, it’s moments like this that I’m quickly reminded of my own mortality. You can do everything by the letter, by the book, and it wouldn’t matter because ultimately, your life is in someone else’s hands. There’s no guarantee they’re going to stop before the crosswalk. There’s no guarantee they’re not going to try to gun it to beat the red light. There’s no guarantee that person is even sober when they’re driving. There’s no guarantee even if you’re not in a car.
Since Bear has been born, we’d witnessed two accidents just by the corner of our home. There was a really bad one just a few months ago that we barely missed because we went home for a few moments before going back out.
I can’t tell you the number of close calls Bear and I had while we were walking. Drivers simply not paying attention. People following too close behind us. I often had people see me but not see the stroller I’m pushing in front. It is only when I’m carrying Bo when they actually see a baby (because of his dangling legs around my waist).
I said a prayer to the woman and wiped a few tears as I thought about her husband, family, and friends. She was only 51 and honestly, 51 is not that far away from my 35. It could’ve been me and I think that’s what makes me angry, sad, and disgusted. You can do everything and lead a good life and it all takes for some careless person to take it all away in a heartbeat.
I pray for a long life. I pray for a happy and healthy one. I pray for you, too.