He held me, though I was the enemy.

He looked at me, but it didn't feel like me.
I was the enemy, I was the bad guy, I felt like the disgusting vermin who one chases around with the broom. That is the look he gave me- that was the look I deserved.

His eyes never met mine, at least not in that moment and if they had I couldn't catch them with my own. Instead it was if I was watching this scene play out before me. And inside my heart had stopped. It still stops when the memory rushes threw my body and makes my blood pump cold.

"Is everyone OK?" I frantically asked.

Then I began to shake. I leaned up against the cement barrier and slid down the side until I was sitting on the ground.

"I am sorry."

I cried.

"I am sorry."

I shook.

"Is everyone OK? I am so sorry."

The river of cars in front of me was the only thing that didn't stop in that moment. I watched the blurs of color which I know to be vehicles pass and I felt dizzy- sick almost.

"I am sorry."

I still continued to shake.

A man, a different man. A man with a long dark beard and a pony-tale kneeled down next to me and grabbed my hand. "Are you OK?"

"Yes, I am fine. Are they OK? Is everyone OK? I am sorry."

I held onto him, that was all I could do. His voice was calm. His voice gave me reassurance. Then I saw the damage and my everything stopped again. Everything but the river, nothing stops it- well, except itself.

The bearded man now had a woman by him- they had been traveling together. And as I continued to sob they both tried to comfort me and keep me from going into shock. I have been trained to know how to handle situations like this- I knew exactly why they were play 20 Questions with me. I felt vulnerable and incapable, but I knew I needed them. I needed to settle my heart down.

"I am sorry."

I need to call my mom. I need her. I need my mom. Panic set in. What am I suppose to do?

My cellphone was in my back pocket and after three attempts of dialing Mom's number she answered.
And just like a child when I heard her voice my body convulsed with shaking, tears streamed down my face and my breathing became short and sharp.

"Kels, what is wrong? Are you OK? Are they OK?"

"Mom, I am sorry. I am so sorry."

"I am coming."

I dropped my phone to the ground, pulled my knees to my chest and shook my head. Sorry.

"Don't worry, everyone is fine. Cops are on their way and we will get this taken care of. Everything will be OK," the bearded man's name was Dan and his lady friend was Kristen. I remember thinking when I first saw her that she was very beautiful. And I tried to slow down my breathing.

Cops. I have never been more happy to see two police officers in my life.

Strength flooded my body as I stood to greet them. I was suddenly able to gather my composure and be strong. I knew the only way they could help me was for me to be as corporative as possible. I felt almost like a child who runs up to a parent crying because the child know the parent can help, however the parent can only do so much unless the child communicates the problem or issue. I had to be tough, speak clearly and do the best I could to help them help us.

Composure. At least for a moment. My motivation was the paperwork that was now on a clipboard and in my hand. I couldn't cry because crying obscured my vision and I need to see to be able to fill out the pages of information to help the cops.

Then I saw them get out. The family of four. The beautiful family who was on their way to the Brigham City open house and I had ruined it. I was the bad guy, the impostor, the villain, the antagonist. Tears pooled in my eyes and I was conflict whether or not to stay in my car or run and embrace them. Embrace them for the blessing of their safety, for the love I had for each of them and for the hope that maybe they could forgive me of my trespasses.

The cop came to my door and I gave him my information as I watched the family huddle together from the corner of my eye. I wanted to be their with them, I wanted to let them know how sorry I was. I want the strength that families bring- even if this one wasn't my own.

But I stayed in my car. I was the villain. I didn't deserve to impose more than I already had. I wanted to run away and hide, but I couldn't. Instead just watched them. I watched them embrace and hold each other close. I watched the way the father lead his wife and daughter to the cab of a tow truck and place them safely inside. I watched how the father gripped the son's shoulder and looked at him with honor and love.

And to think I could have taken this all away. I began to cry again. This time the tears fell silently. All I could do now was pray.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

His name was Dillon. He handed me a Ogden Autobody card and proceeded to tell me the play-by-play of what will happen next. Dillon lead me to the cab of their tow truck, but as I passed the father and the son I turned to them and said I am sorry yet another time.

The father looked at me. He really looked at me this time and tears filled my eyes. I felt charity through his eyes. Charity and compassion and forgiveness. He held pulled me into a hug and held me.

"We are OK. Everything will be OK."

Dillon was waiting for me at the tow truck. I said goodbye to the man and his son and pulled myself in.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Saturday at approximately 4:15 PM I got in a car accident on the freeway near Ogden. I had been in Salt Lake all morning at my cousin's bridal shower and was on my way back up to Logan for the weekend and to get ready for school to start that coming Monday.

I often hear people say that when something drastic happens it is as if time is put into slow motion, but I disagree. It all happened so fast. Everything is as if it was a blur. Unreal- even now, until the scene flashes through my mind again and my heart stops, my body grows tense and starts to shake. Oh, and the fact that the Durango isn't parked outside my apartment.

I haven't driven since. I will, just not yet. I am fine just to be the passenger for a while.

Gratitude and humility have over come me and for that I am thankful.

My life is filled with so many blessings.