Sometimes the Blessing Is What Didn’t Happen

Last week, I wrote about the importance of family and friends. About showing up for the people we love, being present, and not taking time together for granted.

I didn’t know then just how quickly life would hand me a reminder of that lesson.

This past week, I was home helping take my dad to a doctor’s appointment at Yale University. My mom and dad were both in the truck with me, and we were slowly moving through an intersection right in front of the doctor’s office when, out of nowhere, another vehicle came through the red light and hit us.

The driver was a 90-year-old Italian man who had been living in America for more than 60 years. From what we could gather afterward, he was so focused on crossing the intersection and getting onto the highway that he never realized the light had changed to red.

He struck us going somewhere around 20 to 25 miles per hour while we were only moving at about 10.

Thankfully, I drive a large SUV.

Because the reality is, had he hit a smaller car—or another family—the outcome could have been much worse.

The Moment Everything Changes

There’s something surreal about the seconds immediately after an accident.

One moment we’re talking about dinner plans and the doctor’s appointment. Next, we hear metal crunching, shattering glass (I had antique lamps in the way back), feel the jolt of impact, my mom screaming, and my brain races to figure out what just happened.

My first instinct wasn’t calm or reflective. It was anger.

I was MAD. Protective. Adrenaline was pumping. My parents were in the car, and all I could think was, “Are they okay?”

Thankfully, despite being badly shaken up, bruised, and sore after being thrown around, my mom did not suffer serious injuries. My dad was okay, too.

Cars can be repaired. People cannot.

That perspective changes everything very quickly.

Choosing Compassion Over Anger

As the situation unfolded, I looked over at the man who hit us. He wasn’t reckless in the way people often imagine. He wasn’t distracted by a phone. He wasn’t speeding recklessly through traffic. His daughter and son-in-law had just been in an accident, and he was on his way back to his house as he waited for them to call him once they were admitted into the ER at Yale University Hospital.

He was elderly. Confused. Shaken himself.

And suddenly, my frustration softened.

Not because what happened was okay. It wasn’t. The damage to both vehicles was significant. The situation was stressful and upsetting for everyone involved.

But sometimes life gives us a choice in real time: hold onto anger, or choose grace.

Later, when his son and nephew arrived at the scene, his son thanked me for my patience and kindness toward his father.

That moment stayed with me.

Because it reminded me that every person we encounter is carrying something we may not fully understand. Fear. Age. Stress. Regret. Vulnerability.

And while we can’t always control what happens to us, we can control how we respond.

The Blessing Hidden Inside the Scare

The truth is, I keep coming back to one thought: thank God it was us. I told that to my husband, and he said, “I’ve never heard someone say they were happy they got hit.”

I was thankful not because I wanted any of this to happen, but because it could have ended so much differently.

What if it had been a young driver in a compact car? What if children had been crossing nearby? What if someone had been driving faster through that intersection?

Instead, we walked away bruised, shaken, grateful, and reminded of what actually matters.

Sometimes blessings don’t arrive wrapped in perfection. Sometimes they arrive disguised as close calls, perspective shifts, and moments that force us to slow down and recognize what we still have.

Living Civics in Real Life

It’s easy to talk about kindness when life is calm.

It’s harder when you’re standing beside a damaged vehicle with your parents shaken up and emotions running high.

But maybe that’s when civics matters most.

Not in grand speeches or online arguments, but in everyday moments where patience, empathy, and humanity are tested.

This past week reminded me that life is fragile. That family matters deeply. That anger can soften when compassion enters the picture. And that sometimes the greatest blessing is simply being able to drive away together afterward.

Not every bad moment has to become a bitter one.

Sometimes, if we let it, it can become a reminder of grace.