What is your story?

We all have stories. Some define us, others just are what they are. Some make us who we are today and some are just that, a story.

I have a story and I am not sure where it falls on the scale of life where stories go but it is something I think about none the less.

I was 16yrs old (back in 1983) one of my favorite songs was by the group YES "Owner of a Lonely Heart" and it was two days after Christmas. My Uncle and cousin had been at my grandma and grandpa's house and we were going to take them back home (about an hour or two away). I still am not sure why I was at my grandparents house after Christmas. Maybe I stayed on to hangout with my cousin as she was only a year younger then I.

We all piled in the car to make the drive to my uncles house. This was in Michigan and that day it was snowing and the roads were icy. My least favorite thing to do when the weather was bad was driving or riding anywhere. We made it to my uncles house without incident and dropped them off. I don't recall even getting out of the car to go inside so we must've done a quick turn around because of the weather.

Two very odd things happened to me that day, prophetic type things that make me wonder a lot about, but I will get to those in a moment.

We leave my Uncle's place and start heading out of the city. The road is four lanes on each side with a center left turn lane. We were in the outside right lane (luckily). As we were driving (grandpa was driving) I happened to look up from my place in the backseat to see my grandpa's head down and Grandma steering the car. I found this odd as grandma hadn't driven in twenty years so why would she steer for grandpa? I mean we have all done it, "can you take the wheel while I clean my glasses or take off my coat?" etc..... It only took a split second to realize this wasn't what was happening. My grandpa was unconscious and grandma was trying to control the car. I started yelling for her to try and stop the car and in the process she hit the gas instead. This action propelled us over a snowbank and into a telephone pole.

I immediately jumped out and ran to the nearest place, a Burger King to call 911 (no cell phones back then). I run in there and say that I need someone to call 911. Ok, no offense but employees at Burger King haven't changed much in 25 years. They just stood there staring at me like "huh?" (like they do now when you give them your order). Then they ask, "is anyone hurt?" I am like "Yeah, I think my grandfather is dead" I am sorry but if I come running into a place with no coat on, in the dead of winter in a snow storm after a car just hit a telephone pole next to your parking lot and say I need to call 911, don't ask questions, just let me use the freaking phone already!!

It didn't matter though. My grandpa was gone before we ever even hit the telephone pole. Massive coronary, he first and last.

We got to the hospital, although I fail now to remember how. I assume the police took us but it is all a blur really. After a time they confirmed what I already knew and we needed to call my parents. My grandma wanted me to call as she was too shooken up (obviously).

Anytime I ever called my parents house my mom answered the phone about 99% of the time. However all I could think about was, what if my dad answered? How was I to tell him his father had died? It was not something I could do or was willing to do at 16yrs old. I told my grandma she needed to call. I found out later that, that had not been the best idea. My mom answered the phone and my grandma never said what had happened, just that there was an accident and we were at the hospital. My mom had no idea if i was hurt or anything. She cried and worried the hour+ it took for them to get to where we were. I felt so bad that I hadn't made the call after all.

But here are the two odd things that happened to me that day (other then the death of my grandfather). On the way to drop off our family members I was in the back seat thinking and a thought popped into my mind. I thought to myself "what if something happened to my grandfather, would I be sad?" I know that might seen like an odd question but grandpa and I had a love/hate relationship. He picked on me all the time. He thought it was funny, I thought it was torture and I hated it!!! I thought it was mean. But of all days why was I thinking of something happening to him on that particular day? Was it a coincidence? Or did I know something I didn't even know I knew, like a premonition of sorts?

The next thing happened after we dropped off our relatives. I was sitting in the back seat, alone now and decided to put my seat belt on. I know today this doesn't sound weird, but back then we didn't have seat belt laws, we didn't wear them and if we did we surely never wore them while sitting in the back seat. I remember the police questioning us asking my grandma if her and my grandpa had had their seat belts on and her saying no. The the cop stating to me something about, "well you didn't have yours on either" to which I replied, "oh yes I did" to which he showed surprise. Did I some how know something was going to happen? Did I have a feeling I wasn't conscientiously really aware of?

If those two things hadn't happened it would've still been a tragic day for our family but to me I think it just would've been an awful event you deal with and move on. But I tend to put more thought into this day then other events in my life.

Nothing like this has happened to me since but then again my family in general lives a very charmed life and no tragedies have befallen us (knock on wood).