You know, those moments where your world stops a bit. That dread encroaches, and your brain refuses to process what’s being said.
Monday… on the phone to my dad and another call comes in. I can hear snatches of the female voice on the other end… police… daughter… hospital…
And my dad’s side… Is she okay! Where is she? I’m leaving now.
Just enough to know what’s going on. And that it’s not good.
My sister was driving to my grandparent’s house. A patch of road, only a couple of km’s long, in-between where the roads have been fixed up. Narrow bitumen and dusty, dry gravel on either side. A long stretch, with one blind corner. And a truck.
You know those roads, you have to drive onto the gravel when something else comes toward you – and trucks don’t usually move. So Bethanie did. And hit the gravel badly. Her car rolled.
The truck driver saw it happen in his rear-view mirror. Saw her lose it on the gravel, her car disappear over a ditch. He couldn’t stop, he couldn’t turn around. He kept driving to find some space.
Bethanie finds herself in her car, which has rolled onto its passenger door. Her seatbelt locked in with the pressure of her body. She wedges her feet against the passenger door to take the weight off, and her seatbelt clicks. She realises her window is down. Unusual, because usually they are up, tight, with the A/C blowing. But today, she felt like the wind in her hair, and she wound it down. She manoeuvres her body out the window, and climbs up onto the side of her car. Stands on her door, crying, screaming. A farmer is across the road, on his slasher. He doesn’t see her and he can’t hear her. She screams anyway, Help me.. please. She can’t jump – it’s too high. She can’t slide down – the car is still so hot. Help! No phone reception – can’t call anyone. Minutes roll by. Fifteen of them. And then the rumble of a truck. The truck. He had to find somewhere to turn around, but he came back as fast as he could. He jumps out. Are you okay? He helps Bethanie from her car, calls for help – police, firemen and ambulance.
And then they called my dad – while I was on the phone to him. And told him that my sister had been in an accident. Rolled her car. She’s okay – in shock but not hurt. The ambulance has her, they’re going to the hospital. Meet us there.
And my heart stops. My brain knows she’s okay… but she might not have been. And she didn’t hug me goodbye. It could have been so bad.
God and His angels were watching my sister. If not for Him – well it doesn’t bear thinking about. So glory be to Him.
And we never leave without hugging goodbye ever again.
Bethanie is fine. They gave her some oxygen to pick her back up. Her voice was raw – from that and the screaming. She spent a few hours at the hospital, then my parents took her on to my grandparents for some TLC.
Bethanie told the police that she was driving well below the speed limit, because those gravel bits on the side of the road make her nervous. Their investigations show that she indeed was. And that it probably saved her life.
Miraculously, her car is barely damaged. No broken glass, even her side mirror is intact. The steering column and drive shaft have had it, but all up there is under $700 of work to be done!
What a day.