It was time for a lunch break at work, but for some reason, I didn’t want to leave just then.
I had a sinking feeling and something didn’t feel quite right, so I busied myself putting away files and tidying up my desk area.
After about 10 minutes the feeling cleared so I grabbed my purse and left the office. My destination was a local eatery about 15 minutes down the road. I had nearly arrived when I encountered a long line of cars. One by one they were slowly squeezing by a series of blockades with the help of a lone police officer.
From my place in line, I could see the blue and red lights off police cars, fire trucks, and ambulances.
The accident was fresh.
When it was my turn to pass, I saw the scene.
5 or 6 cars were involved.
One had smashed into a tree. A few meters away was a woman kneeling in the grass, crying and holding the hand of her distressed toddler. Another car was in someone’s front yard. Another was overturned by a curb and the remaining had spun out in the middle of the street.
The drivers and passengers were walking around dazed, some on cell phones, some talking to responders.
It was an unreal scene on a semi-suburban street.
The woman with the toddler broke my heart.
Once I got past the barricade I drove to the store and got them some juice boxes and goldfish snacks.
All I could think of is how she was feeling and about my two babies.
Is this why I felt like I shouldn’t have left earlier…to avoid being there at the time of the accident?
I guess I’ll never truly know.
I used to chalk up feelings and incidents like those to coincidence, but I don’t think they are anymore…at least not all of them. That little feeling has occurred too many times to ignore it.
Many times I hear it for good things too.
Like when I left my 9–5 and went on the path to find what I truly loved, I heard it loud and clear, on the sidelines cheering me on:
“Yes, keep going!”
I don’t think I’ll ever fully understand it.
All I know is it’s there, it watches my back and I need to listen more.