The Best Wreck Ever

​I would argue that there aren’t too many life experiences that, when reflecting on them, make you cringe in fear and warm your heart at the same time. Well, the evening of Thursday, October 20th, 2016, I had one of these unique experiences that reminded me of a couple things.
 
I had just taken the interchange from I-35 North that put me travelling westbound on highway 1604, the highway my neighborhood is located off of. To my right, a merging lane of traffic was coming off of the I-35 South ramp. This ramp gradually curves to its right as it slowly merges with my lane. Between the vehicles on the ramp and me, sat about 50 yards of grassy median.
 
I’ve driven this route hundreds of times, and had naturally developed the habit of glancing to my right to check for vehicles that would be trying to merge. As I did, I noticed an 18-wheeler and a full-sized truck that were seemingly too close. Suddenly, the 18-wheeler clipped the tail end of the truck, and the semi driver jerked his wheel to the left, which sent his rig barreling across the median at approximately 40 mph. In the blink of an eye, what was 50 yards between us was cut in half.
 
Here’s where the story really begins.
 
I saw the entire sequence of events unfold. I knew what caused the clip, I knew why the 18-wheeler was barreling toward me, and I knew that I was going to get hit by an out-of-control tractor-trailer. Though it felt like an eternity, I’d estimate the time from when I saw the semi start towards me to the point of impact was maybe four seconds. I genuinely thought I was going to die, and in what I thought were my last four seconds, I realized two things.
 
First, I just wanted one more moment with those I love. I was furious that I wasn’t going to be able to say goodbye to my wife and loved ones because of somebody else’s decision. I simply wanted to say “I love you” once more. That’s it. And because of another person’s negligence, fatigue, or who knows what else, I was left believing my last opportunity had come and gone.
 
Second, I realized I have been lying to myself for a decade. I am 31 years old now. Sometime around 20-21 years old, an idea was sparked by the thought of having been given an incredible life. I reasoned that I had been given wonderful experiences, a quality upbringing, and relationships that very few get to have. In two decades of life, I recognized that I was extremely fortunate. So, I told myself that whenever my last day came, I could be okay with it, because of the rich life I had experienced. Right before that semi hit me, I realized this wasn’t true.
 
When the impact happened, it’s as if the normal speed of life resumed. The most violent hit I’d ever received let me know that my Honda Accord was no match for a 40,000 pound 18-wheeler. What was going to happen was going to happen, regardless of the two thoughts I had before impact. After the most terrifying, uncertain few seconds of my life, we came to a crashing stop up against the cement barrier that kept us from sliding into oncoming, eastbound traffic. I sat frozen for a few seconds, observing. I looked at my hands, moved my fingers, and then felt my face. Realizing the wreck was over, but that I was still here, I was able to open my door and check on the other two drivers involved.
 
Maybe Life was giving me a sign. If so, Life is one sick SOB. Maybe Life was saying, “Hey, you’re not doing bad, but you’re sort of living me at 90%.” At 31 years old, I am involved in what I believe to be the greatest work on the entire planet. I believe I have more to give, and if you’re reading this, so do you.
 
So I leave you with two things that this life-improving experience gave me:
 
1- If there is somebody that deserves to know how much you love and appreciate them, tell them, today. Sit them down, look them in the eye, and tell them. If that’s not possible, pick up the phone.
 
2- Stop living life at 90%. This is it. Period. Life really doesn't allow mulligans. Many writers have mentioned the “dash between two dates.” I am overwhelmed with gratitude that my dash isn’t done…neither is yours.
 
MOVE FORWARD. MAKE A DIFFERENCE. BE A FACTOR.