“OMG! My family is so lame!” This is what nearly every teenager says every time their family does something somewhat strange in public. I, on the other hand, have come to cherish these weird moments, all because of an incident that occurred not too long ago. This event made me realize that life’s short and you need to get the most you can out of it, even if it means sitting through dinner at an expensive restaurant while your dad makes bizarre faces and calls you pet names, such as “Boo-boo”. As odd as it sounds to let your family be themselves and you not hunker in your chair with your head ducked down so people can’t see your face, it’s not that peculiar, although sometimes you need to have this realization ‘knocked’ into you.

The accident happened about a year ago while traveling down Stapley Dr. I was riding shotgun in my family’s Chevy suburban, my mom at the wheel.

It had been raining for most of the afternoon, dark grey clouds concealing the heavens, fat drops of wetness pouring down.

My mom and I were chatting happily-her flipping through radio stations while I told about my day-when we spotted red and blue lights flashing on the road ahead. Traffic began to slow for the accident, and then it stopped altogether when the streetlight changed from yellow to red.

Suddenly, I heard the sharp, ear-piercing squeal of rubber on rain-soaked tar. Looking into the rearview mirror, I saw the horrific sight of a small, red Nissan sliding first left, then right as it tried to stop in time to avoid collision with our rear bumper. My eyes then rose from the car to the driver. Her face white with panic, her hands gripping the steering wheel so tightly that I’m sure they were pasty white in color, and her arms swiveling back and forth as she attempted to avoid the accident that would intertwine our lives.

Her anxiety did nothing to avert the accident, and seconds later our suburban suffered the impact and lurched forward a foot.

Too stunned to comprehend what had happened, I turned to my mom, whose face reflected how I felt-terrified and alarmed.

My mother finally emerged from her comatose state and began the basic car-accident procedure; she switched on her hazard lights and exited the vehicle to see if the other driver was harmed. I remained stone still as she did this, not yet aware that I had been involved in an actual car accident.

One of the police officers that had been assisting with the original accident, which lay a mere twenty yards away from us, walked over then and told my mom and the other lady to pull into a nearby parking lot.

We did as he said, and by the time we were stationary again, it had all set in, and I was trembling uncontrollably and unstoppably.

We all got out of our vehicles, and the police officer asked my mom and the other woman if they were hurt. When they answered no, he turned to me and asked the same question. I managed to shake my head no, but it took the most effort ever needed for a simple headshake.

Noticing my frightened expression, the other woman began to cry, loud sobs emanating from deep inside her chest and shaking her small, plump body. She was around fifty or sixty years of age, and seemed horrified by what she had caused, even though nobody had been injured.

The police officer then questioned the adults, asking for each one’s side of the story, and then if my mother wanted to sue, to which she quickly and sharply responded “no”. He then had the drivers exchange personal information, while I stood motionless, aside from my spastic jerks, watching what was occurring.

The police man went on to call the woman a tow truck, since her small car’s hood had been smashed upward and inward, forming a red metal triangle and making it impossible for her to drive an immense distance. Our large, sturdy vehicle had a reasonable sized dent in the rear bumper, but nothing else had been damaged, so it was still operable.

As we began to enter our suburban to could leave, the woman rushed up to us and hugged us each, apologizing fervently while we assured her that we were fine and that everything was going to be all right.

When she had finished expressing her regret, we got into the suburban and drove away, waving to her as we exited the parking lot.

I think about the accident almost every day, and billions of “what if’s” are constantly entering my mind. The two that scare me the most when I think about them are “What if my brother and sister had been in the backseat when the accident happened?” and “What if my mom hadn’t had her foot on the brake and we had crashed into the car in front of us?” These questions relentlessly nagging at me from a small corner deep inside my brain have helped me to realize that worse things could have transpired that day. Neither you nor I should take life for granted, because someday a car, whether metaphorical or actual, it doesn‘t matter, will crash into you and make you realize that you aren’t invincible and eventually your life will end, and every moment that you spend with your friends and family should be cherished. Even though there were many negative things about that car accident, the fact that it made me become conscious of this is one big plus.