Instead of getting frustrated, I always say a prayer when I am delayed for whatever reason or stuck in traffic. In someway I feel it is God telling me to slow down. Offering me a cushion between having an accident somewhere along life's way.
Usually I leave for my stained glass class to arrive 15 minutes early. We are allowed entrance to work during this time, but without instruction. I try to make every minute count. Yesterday morning I was talking on the phone with a friend as the clocked ticked off the minutes towards then past my usual departure time. We were chatting about family and kids, important subjects these days; I would miss the early work. It was fine.
Our conversation ending, I said good bye and hit the road. On the Mass Pike, three miles from my exit, brakes lights flashed up illuminating all three lanes. Something happened. Within seconds, a squadron of police cruisers, fire rescue and highway safety vehicles barreled down the breakdown lane. I moved over from the slow lane, (after all I had been traveling at a paltry 65 mph), and into the middle lane, thinking it was crawling abit faster. And then we sat.
Something was up. Something terrible. I called my girlfriend and left a message thanking her for our conversation. For whatever was ahead of me, could have involved me, if we hadn't been chatting.
Twenty minutes later when traffic crawled past the accident site it looked like someone had peeled forward the left fender of a truck like a banana. Fifteen or more police and other rescue workers were standing around. The site was somber. Later I learned a man died in that accident. And the man he was assisting was also hurt. Very sad.