The fears

I have a cousin who never used the Calcutta Metro because he had this innate fear of being stuck underground and dying in the train. And then there is Professor T who will drive hundreds of miles to get to a conference rather than taking a flight for fear of the plane crashing. And my mom will never get on a boat because she is convinced that boats are meant to drown and she doesn't know how to swim. People have all kinds of fear. The all pervasive, predominant fear is of dying. No one really wants to die (except may be some lost victims of unrequitted love). And yet, no matter how we try to play it safe by avoiding cars and planes and ships and trains, we never know how things may turn out to be when the time comes. And the truth is one may try his/ her hardest by staying at home thinking it is safe and still be hit by a hurricane or tornado and die. Or just have a heart attack. And die.

Yesterday there was a multi-car pile up on the interstate when I was driving back home which resulted in delays that took upto two hours to get through. And as I sat there in my car wondering about the people who were involved in the crash I had the strangest feeling. What were these people thinking of right before the accident? Were they thinking about some unfinished work in the office? Were they thinking about their family and how much longer it would take to get home? Were they thinking of dinner? Of taking the kids out to the ballgame? Did someone try to cut across another car thinking it would make him go a little faster and end up being the cause of the accident? I have no clue. I don't even know how many people were involved and whether they were alive and okay. But I know of people, friends, who have had accidents on the road. And died. It happens. It happens all the time. And I had the sudden urge to rush back home. To be safe in the arms of my family. To be able to tell them that I love them and how much they mean to me. And that I try to drive safe. But sometimes things happen that you have no control over. People make mistakes. And they suffer. And they make others suffer.

And I couldn't help but think of what it was like for people who are involved in an accident. And what it is like for the family who hear the news. I remember when B was rear-ended on a state highway and his car went and hit the car in front resulting in a three car accident with his car being smashed up on both ends. I saw a picture of the car after the accident and it is unbelievable that someone could walk away unscathed from that. And yet, B did walk out. Unscathed. And I have never been able to thank God enough for that. But I remember the exact moment when I heard the news. And I knew they were taking him to the ER. And although B kept reassuring me that he was okay I was scared out of my wits, sick with worry that he wasn't telling me the whole story. And the only thing that seemed important at that moment was that I needed to reach him and be at his side. Which wasn't easy because he was in Virginia and I was in Chicago. But I did get a flight with relative ease that let me reach his side.

And I know how much B and my parents worry about me driving to work everyday. The rush hour traffic, the thousands of people trying to get to work and home as fast as they can, the cars cutting across lanes squeezing in what little space there is, and the constant stress of staying awake and alert. And I know taking the train is a safer and less stressful option. But I save almost two hours everyday by driving instead of taking the train and I'd rather spend those two hours at home with my family.

So I drive. And I try to drive safe. And I pray that nothing ever happens to me on the road. I pray for myself and I pray for my family. Because I don't want to die. I don't even want to be injured. Like that girl from College Park who had an accident last Thanksgiving and is still in rehab. Or R's brother who is undergoing physiotherapy to get back on his feet, four years after his accident. No, I don't want that to happen to me. Or my family. But one can only hope and pray. And I want my family to know how much they mean to me. And that I love them. Even if I don't get to show it to them as often as I would like. And that I've always wanted them to be proud of me. And not be a burden or a source of unhappiness to them. Ever. And even though there are times when I hurt them without realizing it, I would do anything to keep them safe and happy.

And I am grateful to them for making my life so complete.