Several months ago, I got rear-ended on the Parkway. It was a bit of a surprise; the kids and I were at the light, three cars back, when suddenly we felt a significant jolt. Hmm. I pulled my car over to the side and cut the engine.
A woman got out of a silver Audi and came to my window.
“I’m so sorry,” she said. “I’m on new medication. Medication for anxiety. I don’t know what happened.”
“Oh,” I said. “That’s okay. Please don’t worry. It’s just a car. My kids are fine. It’s okay.”
The lady gave me her insurance information and I took down the make, model, and year of her car.
“I’m going to go home,” she said. “I don’t feel very well.”
“It’s okay,” I said. “Really. I understand. It’s no problem.”
“I have anxiety, too,” I added.
“You do?” she asked, looking directly at me.
“Yes,” I said. “And I understand. It’s fine.”
Well….I temporarily covered the damage by slapping a removable Jazzercise bumper sticker over it. A month later, I called my insurance company, her insurance company, and met with the adjuster for her insurance company. Several more months later, just today, we finally got an estimate from our own local body shop. Surprisingly, their estimate came in at over $100 less than the one conducted by her insurance company.
So, no biggie. I don’t care about a dent and damage to my bumper (although it was cool coming out $100 ahead on the whole thing.) I agree with George, who has always maintained that “Cars aren’t important. People are.”
What I care about is the woman who hit me. She was quiet, sad, and somewhat out of it at the time. I hope she is doing and feeling better now.