We all have bad weeks. It’s the nature of life.
Last Monday it started with my commute home. I work in Boston now and am a slave to commuting on the train. I typically take the 5:25 commuter rail train because it is an express train that goes directly to my town and saves about 5-10 minutes. I am usually home in about a half hour.
It was a normal commute until the train stopped dead about three stops from where it was supposed to. Then we heard that a man had driven his car in to the train tunnel at my typical stop and the car had been hit by an earlier train. Initially, we had heard that the driver was actually ok. He was elderly and had gotten confused as to where to exit the station. The 2 1/2 hours it took me to get home was irritating, of course. I got home just in time to see the smashed car being towed away from the train station, among the many news crews that were there covering the story. Later that night the driver had actually died from injuries he sustained from the crash.
Tuesday was election day, of course. Aside from the obvious presidential results, my liberal state of Massachusetts had three questions on the ballot that resulted in the most asinine results.
Wed., Thurs. and Friday-typical work and life frustrations. Eagerly looking forward to the weekend to wash away the events of the week. Have a few cocktails and a nice night out with my husband. All was going to plan. Until yesterday.
Late afternoon I received a call from my mother letting me know that my uncle had been in a motorcycle accident. He ended up dying as a result of it. At the time nobody knew the circumstances of the accident or the extent of his injuries. My dad told me that he was wearing a helmet, but it was a shortie so he had a big bump over one of his eyes.
Today we learned that the accident was a hit & run. They determined that someone had run him over due to the extent of injuries to his chest and stomach. There is now an on-going investigation into the accident and who is responsible. And the kicker? It was my uncle’s birthday.
So now I’m left to ponder: as a motorcycle rider, is it just inevitable that our ticket will be punched at some point? This is not the first time my life has been touched by someone close to me having an accident, or even the first time it’s been a hit & run.
Are we just tempting fate every time we jump on our bikes to go for a leisurely drive? And is it really worth it?