I don’t know if my family was really feeling the love this Valentine’s Day.
We had a grand time the night before, at an auction for a foundation called Hockey Has Heart. Two Christmases ago, my cousin Shane broke his spine in a snowboarding accident. Paraplegic from the chest down. The whole family was rocked. But this foundation, Hockey Has Heart, helped so much with expenses and morale, and my cousin Jenny, Shane’s sister, eventually was put on their board of directors or presidents, or something. I don’t know the exact terminology, but something prestigious. On February 13th, they had an auction to fundraise at the Henry Ford Museum on Dearborn. (An AMAZING museum, by the way. I sat in the same seat Rosa Parks sat in, on the same bus! I went in there maybe three times with different people each time. I could give the presenter’s pitch by the time we left.) The auction ended pretty late, so we spent the night at my Grandpa’s house in Lincoln Park. On Sunday we left around 1:30 to go visit some family friends at their house. They were on our way home, so why not pay them a visit? The plan was to go from there to my cousin Melissa’s house to meet her newborn baby.
We spent a good two or three hours at the Rineys’s house (the aforementioned family friends), and I had a great time taking aesthetic-y pictures with my iPhone’s camera. We were a little behind schedule leaving. My dad wanted to be home by 8, because some snow was supposed to come that night, and none of us would enjoy maneuvering that. We’d have to leave my cousin’s at 6:30, and probably leave the Rineys’s at 4. We actually left around 5. PLUS, my dad was rushing, and that’s when it happened.
We got a ticket. For speeding. I can’t say if my dad deserved it or not-he was going 50 in a 30 (apparently), but we were running late and had just made a turn and the law can’t afford to be circumstantial.
So that definitely put a damper on our day.
We got to Melissa’s just fine after that, and got to meet little baby Hayden! He’s precious. He’s perfect. He’s so tiny and sleepy, and I could see myself chasing him around in future years. He’s the first of the next generation of cousins on my mom’s side, so it’s bittersweet not to be the youngest anymore.
We left Melissa’s maybe five minutes before 7. And this is when things went south.
I remember looking at my dad’s gps, noting that it would take 2 hours and 16 minutes to get home. I was distracted, leaning forward in my seat, sitting on an angle, scrolling through Instagram. We were stopped at a red light. All of a sudden, there was a giant BANG! and I was flung back in my seat. I remember shouting “Whoa!” and whipping my head around. At first, I was scared. There was this massive truck behind us–red, with lights on the top. Who drives a truck like that? Well, apparently in this instance, a 90-year-old handicapped couple. My friend asked me later, can you really be mad at old people? The answer: yes. There was a massive tear in the back of my dad’s car (how fast do you have to be going to rip into the metal on a Ford Taurus?) ! We had been on the road for three minutes (his gps read 2 hours and 13 minutes the next time I checked) ! The light was red! We didn’t get back on the road until 8 o’clock. The detective (Det. Buttigieg–bless him and his name) filed a report and told us that while they were clearly in the wrong, the old couple did claim the light was yellow. (It was not.)
I’d never been in a car accident before. (And I’ll call it a car accident because it was not a fender bender-more like a fender destroyer.) It was really fast. I mean, the actual accident was maybe three seconds? But the aftermath was such a huge ordeal. I didn’t really know what to expect, but I guess I wasn’t too surprised.
So my weekend was…good? Bad? Definitely bad for driving, but in general? I don’t know. It’s weird. So many emotions were felt, I feel like it is split down the middle. So if someone asks, I think I’ll say… It was alright.