On the way back, I realized the driver of the car had not survived. By then, the paramedics had arrived. Traffic had slowed down to a crawl, and it was down to one lane. The ambulance and fire truck were still there but no one was rushing around attending to any injuries. As we crept past the wreckage, I looked over and saw two small boys behind the car talking with a police officer. To rescue them, the back of the vehicle had been pried off. The boys seemed unharmed, but my heart was aching so badly for them. They couldn't have been much older than my own girls who were now sleeping behind me. Their heads were hanging and it looked as though they were crying. I imagine the officer was trying to find out their names, perhaps their parents names, and maybe a phone number. I cried as I drove the rest of the way home just thinking about that family. It's likely that it was their mother driving them and the father would soon be getting the worst call of his life. Two little boys probably lost the most important person in their short lives. It's just too much to ask of a family.
Life is so precious and can be cut short in an instant. It's not really realistic to treat each day as if it is your last, but there is something to be said for making the most out of each day that we do have.