Still, the seatbelts did their job, and we weren't much tossed about. The hardest part was reorienting myself once we came to rest so I could figure out how to get the moon roof open, because we certainly weren't going to be exiting via any of the doors. God bless the kind gentleman who ran down and helped me climb out through it, then reached in and unbuckled Riley and helped ease her down out of the now-skyward passenger seat and out through the moon roof, as well. He had the presence of mind to reach in and turn the car off, and later, went back down to the car to retrieve my purse and a few other items, losing his own keys in the snow in the process. (Fortunately, one of the officers was able to help him find them.)
We both emerged relatively unscathed -- just a few sore muscles. And, aside from the inconvenience of being temporarily Highlanderless, life has pretty well gotten itself back to "normal".
I've sat with it a couple weeks, trying to figure out what I want to say about our 1-11-11 adventure. It feels like there should be something...profound, but I don't know that there really is. There are certain things -- impressions really -- that I've been left with: The dead calm that came over me as we lost control; the absolute faith my daughter placed in me when I held my arm out to her and told her to stay calm; how amazingly brave and patient she was while she remained suspended up in the air by the seatbelt for those first couple of minutes after we tipped; the utter relief I felt that, when I called her dad to tell him about the accident, I was able to tell him we were 100% okay; the kindness of those who stopped to help; the concern of friends and family. We really were lucky. Sometimes, I feel like the luckiest unlucky of all.
Now, onto Tuesday's smiles:
- Kind words and encouragement from my "step-wife".
- Sweater dress, tights and boots - my new favorite "look".
- Words with Friends.
- The Glee Wedding -- what a way to celebrate!
- Giving Riley a mani-pedi.