Two ob<x>jects Cannot Occupy the Same Space At the Same Time.

I proved it.  And a smaller, lighter object will generally yield to the heavier, faster-moving object.  But not necessarily without some resistance. 

I was the pedestrian in a car-pedestrian tussle.  I did a bunch of damage to the car -- broke the windshield, a headlight, dented the hood and the fender.  But, all in all, I have to say that the car got the better of me.  I'm guessing the car's repairs were complete within 10 days;  I, on the other hand, took almost a year to mend. 

I was barely 15 years old when it happened.  I was about to be ON TIME getting home from my friend's house, early in the summer.  I was looking across an empty field at my own back yard fence when the car hit me.  I had crossed to the island in the middle of a four-lane road, and a car pulled into the left hand turn cutaway.  I recall feeling the headlights of the car that was turning left as I walked in front of it.  It felt just like the spotlights from the high school play that I had recently appeared in.  Then, bang.  Nothing.  For 5 days.  Well, there were spotty little moments, but nothing that I can recall, until I woke up, with my recently-widowed mom sitting next to me in the hospital.  I asked, just like the cliche, what happened?

She told me what had happened, and I immediately started arguing with her, because in my mind, I had gotten home that Tuesday night.  I could see my own backyard, for God's sake! 

Turns out that I hadn't.  Wow. What a change that made in my life.  I had dreams of being a professional actress.  Now, with these scars and disfigurements on my body, that dream was shot.  And I had made the Pom Pom line at school -- ooops.  Couldn't dance when I was on crutches for half the school year. 

Did it change me?  You bet.  Being home schooled for a semester made me miss a whole bunch of stuff that "everybody" else experienced.  That plus I had such a different outlook on things like - - - mortality!

When I went back to school, I was not the "socie" that I had been.  I was a much deeper, more grounded person.  Am I squeamish about crossing streets?  Naw.  Not even at that same corner.   Do I look carefully?  Sure.  Did I teach my children about the dangers of speeding cars?  Of course.  Is there anything I can do to change what happened to me?  No way.  And so it goes.