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| At the end of this road, to the left, is a stop sign that leads onto the highway, only a block from where the events in this blog took place. |
I was ready to go to the library this afternoon, to use the wi-fi, check my emails, and work on some projects. I was changed and ready; Sara and Emma were ready. But I really, really, really didn't feel like going. I actually didn't feel good, but I didn’t want to disappoint the girls, because they were ready to go, and they enjoy an afternoon at the library.
We bundled up, gathered up all our stuff, and piled into the Yukon. I put the key in the ignition and turned it...nothing. Tried again, nothing. Tried again, nothing. Tried again, nothing. Six or seven times. I thought, for Pete's Sake!-- We've had enough trouble with the Suburban. What on earth could be wrong with the Yukon?!
We bail out and head back into the house. Joe was going to be working on the Suburban in the driveway, but he hadn't gotten outside yet. I told him that the Yukon wouldn't start. He took my key and headed outside to check it out.
A few minutes later he came back in. I said, “What's the matter with it?”. He said, “Nothing.” I said, “What!?” He said, “It started just fine.” (On the first turn of the key.)
We had brought my laptop and bags back in the house, and I decided to settle down at the kitchen table, which I did for for about ten minutes. I could hear Joe revving up the Suburban engine, working on it in the driveway. Feeling guilty, I bundled back up to go out and see how he was doing. He promptly sat me behind the wheel to keep my foot on the gas peddle so the engine wouldn't die, and he could do what he was going to do.
About five minutes later, the neighbor drives down the street and pulls into his driveway. He gets out and comes across the lawn to me and Joe. He had come home on Broad St. (Highway 77), the road we always take into town. On the overpass above the railroad tracks, only a few blocks from our home, there had been an accident. It's a four lane highway. A full-sized brown pickup had been rear-ended by a speeding motorist in a white van and lost control, crossing the meridian and hitting a small blue pickup head on. It looked like two were dead, a grisly bloody scene.
I've lived here 20 years, and this is the first accident I can recall on the overpass. If the girls and I would have left for the library at the time that we had intended to; if I had really felt like going and not felt sick; if the Yukon would have started...We could have been at that spot when the driver in the speeding van passed through.
So many “if's”.
I don't know whether it was coincidence or providence or synchronicity (and maybe it doesn't even matter which), but that morning, when I was choosing a necklace to wear for the day, I had the inclination to choose a protective talisman. I chose a talisman created to honor and invoke the energy of the goddess Hecate. And that morning, before I put this necklace on, I stood in the center of my living-room, and holding the necklace aloft, I turned to each of the four elemental quarters (earth, to the north; air, to the east; fire, to the south; and water, to the west) and said, “I invoke, Thee, Hecate, for healing, prosperity, protection.”
We bundled up, gathered up all our stuff, and piled into the Yukon. I put the key in the ignition and turned it...nothing. Tried again, nothing. Tried again, nothing. Tried again, nothing. Six or seven times. I thought, for Pete's Sake!-- We've had enough trouble with the Suburban. What on earth could be wrong with the Yukon?!
We bail out and head back into the house. Joe was going to be working on the Suburban in the driveway, but he hadn't gotten outside yet. I told him that the Yukon wouldn't start. He took my key and headed outside to check it out.
A few minutes later he came back in. I said, “What's the matter with it?”. He said, “Nothing.” I said, “What!?” He said, “It started just fine.” (On the first turn of the key.)
We had brought my laptop and bags back in the house, and I decided to settle down at the kitchen table, which I did for for about ten minutes. I could hear Joe revving up the Suburban engine, working on it in the driveway. Feeling guilty, I bundled back up to go out and see how he was doing. He promptly sat me behind the wheel to keep my foot on the gas peddle so the engine wouldn't die, and he could do what he was going to do.
About five minutes later, the neighbor drives down the street and pulls into his driveway. He gets out and comes across the lawn to me and Joe. He had come home on Broad St. (Highway 77), the road we always take into town. On the overpass above the railroad tracks, only a few blocks from our home, there had been an accident. It's a four lane highway. A full-sized brown pickup had been rear-ended by a speeding motorist in a white van and lost control, crossing the meridian and hitting a small blue pickup head on. It looked like two were dead, a grisly bloody scene.
I've lived here 20 years, and this is the first accident I can recall on the overpass. If the girls and I would have left for the library at the time that we had intended to; if I had really felt like going and not felt sick; if the Yukon would have started...We could have been at that spot when the driver in the speeding van passed through.
So many “if's”.
I don't know whether it was coincidence or providence or synchronicity (and maybe it doesn't even matter which), but that morning, when I was choosing a necklace to wear for the day, I had the inclination to choose a protective talisman. I chose a talisman created to honor and invoke the energy of the goddess Hecate. And that morning, before I put this necklace on, I stood in the center of my living-room, and holding the necklace aloft, I turned to each of the four elemental quarters (earth, to the north; air, to the east; fire, to the south; and water, to the west) and said, “I invoke, Thee, Hecate, for healing, prosperity, protection.”
Hecate's Pendent.
Meant to be. You and the girls were protected.
ReplyDeleteI have chills! Glad you are safe. :) That protection magick works!
ReplyDeleteYes, it does!...And it doesn't matter what religion you are, or what deity you invoke; there's something bigger than us in the universe who can, and will, protect us when we seek protection. I'm a firm believer...Laura, it gave me chills too. As a matter a fact, it was one of those days when you walked around for hours feeling the breeze from the bullet that missed you.
ReplyDelete