It’s not quite sinking in yet. The fact that the car hydroplaned to the other side of C5, jumped off the island division, and nearly crashed into Heritage Park. How apt, heritage park.
It hasn’t sinked in yet, that one of my friends, ever comic in timing said “kapag masamang damo, di namamatay.” A high five was done to celebrate my family’s accidental brush with death.
Oh, and I wasn’t wearing a seat belt.
Death chooses no one. On this same day, a friend’s father passed away. The other week, another dad’s time came.
Life persists. A friend finally gave birth yesterday. Just last month, a follow up resulted in news of a baby.
Life, death, life, death. In between, second chances.
In my case, a third. Months ago, a drunk driver ran the red light as our taxi crossed the highway. The driver hit the brakes just in time. What a difference the brakes make.
What a difference a break makes.
Last year, there was that taxi ride that could have ended with me penny less, virginity less, or worst, life less.
Sometimes, life punches you in the face to remind you: Is this the life you want to leave and look back on? And if given a third chance, a life you’d want to wake up to?
The first step was the MA to making a life I’d want to wake up to. In spite of the hydroplane, the universe steered the car such that I could make it to class on time and finish the semester.
Everything else? Well that’s up to me. Time won’t wait. And neither should I.