Member-only story
Family
My Reactions to Thinking I Was About to Die Were Not What I Expected
Acceptance Is Good, but Should It Have Come so Quickly?
My mother’s car was a “woodie” station wagon. I can’t remember exactly; I think it looked something like the one in this picture, but older.
The car had a few problems. The most annoying was that the passenger side door wouldn’t always latch correctly. Eventually my father tied it shut with a rope, but hadn’t done that yet.
When I was in first or second grade, my mother picked me up at school to drive me home. She turned a sharp corner too quickly, the door swung open, and I began to slide out of the car. It was the 1950s; seatbelts were a long way in the future.
I don’t remember my thoughts or emotions, but I do remember what I very calmly said to my mother. It wasn’t much:
“Goodbye, Mom.”
Even I thought that was odd when I thought about it later. I don’t know what my mother thought, but she saw what was happening and turned the wheel hard in the other direction, causing me to slide back toward her and safety.
That was my first brush with real danger.
