Being Reminded of Life's Fragility and Unpredictability

Life, as we all know, is very fragile. I'm sure that each one of us has been exposed to situations in our lives that have made that fact painfully clear. While I am no stranger to the experience of death or sickness, those are things that I prefer not to think about if I can help it. However, every once in a while, whether I like it or not, some situation or event will occur that will remind me of just how fragile life is and how we are all living on borrowed time. Today, on my way home from making a delivery, I witnessed a scene on a local freeway that sent a shiver down my spine and reaffirmed the fragility and unpredictability of life.

I was less-than fifteen-minutes from home. Traffic was fairly heavy - not a shock in the Los Angeles area - and I remember grumbling to myself in response to my forward advancement being impeded by all the slow-moving vehicles in my path. It was but a few moments later that I was made fully aware of the reason for the sudden traffic jam: a motorcycle accident. In the far left-hand lane - the carpool lane - there was a lone motorcyclist - fully clothed and wearing a helmet - who was lying flat on his side on the pavement. There was a small group of people milling about the area, and a few people were hunched over the fallen motorist, most assuredly checking for injury or sign of life. There were no emergency vehicles present, but there was an arriving highway patrolman. Considering the lack of emergency vehicles and other police cars, the accident had to have just happened.

As I drove slowly by, I remember zeroing in on the fallen motorcyclists body and at the same time feeling an overwhelming sense of sadness. I didn't know the person, who I assumed was a male, and I had no personal/emotional connection to him. But as a fellow human being, a compassionate and decent fellow human being, I was bothered. By way of the motorcyclists' posture and the stillness of his body, I assumed that he was dead. I hoped he wasn't; I hoped he was just unconscious. But I momentarily grieved for this person whom I suspected was dead. I started thinking about how this man was probably somebody's husband or father; He was somebody's son, and somebody's friend. And this person - no matter what his title or relationship status - was not going home today. Would he ever go home? Who would be waiting for him, expecting his arrival? At that moment that I passed this unnamed person lying on the carpool lane of the 91 freeway, I knew something awful about him that his family had no knowledge of: his injury, and most probably, his death!

I have lost loved ones in the past. I can still remember my very first funeral and how confusing and scary it was. I've always had a fear of coffins; I don't like what they represent. I know that, eventually, it will be my turn to be looked at and wept over; to be eulogized and remembered. I am very aware of my own mortality, and I realize that we all have a huge cliff waiting for us down the road; some of us will get to that cliff sooner than others, but we will all get there! But whenever I see an episode such as the one I saw today, it always reminds me of that cliff, and that's one reminder that I can do without. I don't like being depressed, and I don't like being sad. And being reminded of life's fragility and unpredictability tends to make me sad and depressed. I like feeling safe, secure, and healthy, and I want my family and friends to feel that way as well. But whenever someone dies or when someone gets sick, whether a family member, friend, or unknown fellow human being, it upsets that idealistic utopia that I have about the world and the people in it. And that's something that never fails to put a bit of a dim in an otherwise sunny day!