Pieces of the past in cars crashed
Our family began this past summer with two old cars, and we ended it with neither of them. One was our commuting car; worn, but trusted. It took its final trip one early Friday evening in June, when a texting driver slammed into my husband and daughter at a stop sign. They were unhurt, but the car was totaled. We attempted to peel off a favorite bumper sticker, but settled for the dangling plastic emblem from the front of it, to have some piece of a car that had served us so safely, for so long.
Less than a month later, our “family-car” met its end, with the same daughter and her friend aboard, when a drunk driver veered into their lane. Again, we got lucky. They had no long-lasting physical injuries, except a few days of achy whiplash.
We went to the tow lot to see the damage. The wreckage shook me, as I thought of what could have happened. My husband pried his way in through a mangled door to clean it out. He easily filled a box with all the random items that littered it.
That box ended up plopped in our living room, and we all walked around it for days. We were busy as we filled out police and insurance reports. We were summoned to court to give a victim’s impact statement. We had to go car shopping.
