I am writing this blog three voice text as I run on early Wednesday morning and the drizzling rain. I awoken to the update on my phone that somebody had died overnight in a three car pile up on Madison Pike. I’m not sure yet if I knew the person, and chances are that I do not. But that doesn’t matter. It’s still a person. It was a living soul.
It was somebody probably on his or her way home from work. Maybe even had Kentucky Fried Chicken in the backseat of the car to bring home to the family after a hard day at work and didn’t have time to cook. Maybe it was somebody heading to work. Perhaps it was just somebody out heading towards the mall to buy a new pair of jeans.
Worse yet… somebody’s child. A new driver. And somebody who is so excited about the right and the privilege to drive. With so much ahead in the future.
It’s weird how I often somehow secretly hope sometimes that I will read on and discover that drunk driving was the cause so that I can have something at which tobe angry. To give it a reason. A different emotion that I can harness better then the extreme sadness I feel when I wake up and read that.
Because then somehow we can all yell and scream and find somebody and some action to blame and ask the stupid questions of “why why why do you do that?”
But that doesn’t bring the person back.
A life that was lived less than 12 hours ago, is now over.
I’ve got miles to go before I rest.
jensumandthensome 