I wish that I had photos to accompany this story but the situation didn’t lend itself.
First of all, my car. It has 213,000 miles (or something like that) on it and I’m resigned to drive it until it dies, and when it dies, to move on.
On Friday morning, out of nowhere, the car didn’t start. I thought that it was dead. I didn’t think it was the battery because the radio and a/c came on. John came home and tried to jump start it and it didn’t start. He said that battery was more than 5 years old. I still didn’t think it was the battery, but lo and behold, the car started sputtering to life. I drove it down to Pep Boys and got a new battery.
Whew - what if this had happened when I was shuttling around my post-surgical sister last week?!
All seemed to be well.
This morning, after waiting on hold for technical support for a new website I was trying to load, I decided to hang up and take Jubilee to a new dog park (post and photos to follow). It was about 10 miles away and I took the back roads to get there. Coming back I decided I would take the interstate, which was supposed to be faster. It is only 2 exits away. Just before my exit a guy passing me on the right told me I had a flat tire, and then I started hearing this loud, loud noise. Man, a major blowout. The best I could do was to pull over at the beginning of the exit ramp. I’m sitting there with cars buzzing by me on both sides. So ... I call John, who was working. He had ridden his motorcycle to work, but said he’d be there in about a half an hour. So, Jubilee and I sit there, it’s 90 degrees, with the windows down and the cars whizzing by. I start listening to a book on my Ipod.
And then they came.
The rednecks in a pickup truck. This isn’t the first time these angels of the highway have come to my aid. [ See HERE. ]Two guys pull over, pull out their super jack, remove the luggage from my car and find the spare, and in about 5 minutes flat they have me ready to go.
My gosh.
I call John and tell him I’m on my way.
Never, ever think that you are not being looked after and cared for, every step of the way. Those who you think are “strangers” are there for you, every time, to carry you along.
My gosh. I wish I had had the presence of mind to take a photo of these angels. I will remember them forever.
These are my kind of angels, encamped around us to keep us in all our ways.
ReplyDeleteRon Sakolsky, anarchist, gave a talk at Creighton and used car break down analogy to explain how anarchism works on his island - when it happens, things are fixed and done before AAA or the cops get there, because enough people will stop to help. It seems like when you get out to the country people are a lot less guarded and friendly (freaked me out when I first experienced it "why are these people saying hello to me?"). In the city, there is too much fear.
ReplyDeleteAn inspiring story, Beth. I will add it to my spiritual lessons as I try to deal with the breakdown of my own personal vehicle -- my arthritic body. Strangers can be friends, and I too thank the new people who have recently helped me. One of them is a nurse from the homecare agency who shares my spiritual journey, even though that is technically not allowed in her work.
ReplyDeleteI'm not sure if it's a city or country thing, Marc. I've run into some very paranoid people in the country. In Pittsburgh today I saw a homeless man come up to a man in a wheelchair crossing the street and say "need a lift, old man?" and then proceeded to push him across the street and then go his way.
ReplyDeleteHope that you have good pain management, Sally. I think that is the most difficult, getting your head from being obsessed with the discomfort. Those people who are there for you are pure gift. Best to you.
Yes, you're right about the pain management, Beth. With my vocal sufferings, I'm afraid I'm making it hard on all the people around me, especially Dianne.
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