In 2004 my family and I went to Florida, to do the Disney thing. Unfortunately my husband (now estranged) fell asleep at the wheel, whilst driving along a motorway. I was in the car at the time and so was my son Brandon (then 9). The car flipped, rolled a couple of times, flew along the ground (upside down) and then filled with smoke. I was trapped inside for a while, which was scary. Luckily none of us was really hurt – apart from me having a dreadful seatbelt burn and very bruised knees (it took about four years for them to stop being numb).
After the crash, Brandon and I returned to the Disney Hotel, by taxi (my ex had things to sort out back at the scene). We told the taxi driver about our crash and he asked me if we would be “going to Church tomorrow”. I said we wouldn’t, that we were British and that most Brits don’t really go to Church. The taxi driver turned around to look at us (which freaked me out, I’d just been in one crash!).
“I think SOMEBODY needs to show a little GRATITUDE here!”, he said.
Wow. I mean, OK I was glad we were alive – but I wasn’t feeling very grateful that we had to crash IN THE FIRST PLACE. Our holiday vibe (along with Brandon’s birthday a couple of days later) suffered under the combined shadow of delayed shock and me having no skin left on my collar-bone. Our dream holiday wasn’t quite such a dream anymore.
The next day, an American lady saw my injuries and asked me what had happened. I told her.
“I think your Guardian Angel was in the car with you!” she cried delightedly, squeezing my arm and grinning like a maniac.
“Well I wish she’d woken my husband up instead of watching us crash!” I replied sarcastically, hobbling away as fast as my battered knees could carry me.
Am I just a horrible person, or is it a bit far-fetched to say I should be grateful for being in a car crash? Am I evil, when I think that a proper Guardian Angel would stop the crash, rather than just stop us dying? If I went to Church, would I be nicer and more cheerful about this kind of shit?