Not Dead

This morning, for fifteen very LONG minutes, I feared that my husband was dead. He had left for work at 7:05 a.m., and at 7:30 a.m. the morning news program that I was watching broad casted breaking news about a fatal car accident on David's commute route. They were not showing any pictures of the car because the next-of-kin had not yet been notified. I immediately picked up the phone and dialed David's cell phone. No answer. I hung up and dialed again. No answer. This went on for fifteen minutes...I dialed and prayed, dialed and prayed, dialed and prayed. Completely unnerved, I went to the news channel's website to see if I could find more details. I heaved a heavy sigh of relief as I read that the accident took place at 7:01 a.m.

A few minutes later, David called and explained that he had left his phone in his office while he went outside to inspect some of his planes. I broke in to tears as I explained to him that I had thought he was dead. And although I was greatly relieved to find out that he was okay, I was also keenly aware that someone else was about to be devastated by the news that their loved one had died in a car accident on the way to work.

I had been inconvenienced this morning when David interrupted my rushing around to kiss me goodbye. Now I can't wait to have him home so I can happily stop whatever I am doing and kiss him hello. Talk about perspective.

Tweet