A close call

With every passing day I come to realize how complicated we humans are. With all of our emotions, conflicts with one another, and almost everything else that we do. I'm not talking about the Gaza issue (that's a whole other post in the making). 

Four friends of mine were recently victims of a car accident. Three happened to come out in one piece with minor injuries while the driver spent two days in the ICU and is now stable. The doctors have a pretty optimistic outlook on the situation saying that he's going to have a full recovery.

As observant as I like to think of myself, I've been watching the other three's reactions to having been in such a difficult situation.

The one with the most extensive of the minor injuries seems justifiably concerned about his friend who is in the hospital and keeps thinking happy thoughts and is trying to make the best out of a bad situation. Not to mention that he's the easiest to deal with in terms of consoling and pep-talking, and the most willing to be sweet-talked into feeling better, despite his injuries and everything else.

The second seems to have a rebellious attitude, and feels resentful of the fact that it hapened to them. He doesn't talk about the incident, keeps to himself, and doesn't try to be at least pleasant with people who try to console him. He's the kind of person who says something like: "Why the hell did this happen to me, God?" perhaps trying to put blame onto someone other than himself, or someone who can't speak in his own defence.

Then again, this is his attitude towards anything that happens to him.

Last but not least, minor injury number three is a moderate of the other two. Quietly drifting away in his own thoughts of what happened, why it happened, and what could have been done to prevent it. He's the kind of person who actually stopped to think about how this could affect his life in the future - will he have learned his lesson and not drive at double the speed limit, or not? - This usually perky and joyful personality now ends every sentence with a long, painfully depressing sigh, which says a whole lot more about what he's feeling that hours of pep-talking would. All the while having complete faith in God's plan for them and that they lived to see another day for a divine reason.

Perhaps you might think that I'm over-thinking things, but I tend to do so, especially when I have a bird's-eye-view of an issue, or a more objective one. As for myself, I find myself quite willing to le go of month-long tiffs and disagreements or everyday problems and pick up the phone and see how they are doing, all the while knowing that I'll regret it with every fiber of my being later on. I find myself asking: Why does it take a life or death situation to bring people closer, and sometimes it takes an actual death to do so? Why to people remember to pray when they're in trouble, and not when the same person they are praying to for help is giving them all that they've ever wanted in life?

I apologize for using this blog for something outside its general theme, but I had a few humble thoughts with nowehre to put them, since no one really cares about this when someone is laying in a hospital bed between life and death.

My only hope is that my friend actually learns something from this and stops trying to impress people by fast driving or cool manoeuvres with his car.