A few days ago, I was heading on N-US 29. The roads were dry, the weather mild, a seemingly unremarkable day—at least for me.
As my car buzzed along at 60 mph, I began to feel quiet unease, sensing something tragic. True enough, on the southbound side of the highway, there was an army of police vehicles, rescue trucks, and other first responders swarming like bees in a hive. Southbound traffic had come to a screeching halt. Northbound slowed to a crawl so that drivers could take in the scene of something every human understands is tragic and every driver on the road fears.
It was unclear what had happened on this quiet morning. A truck bearing a Krispy Kreme logo had veered across the median from the southbound side into the oncoming traffic going northbound, colliding with a pickup truck- or what looked like one based on the pieces left.
At that moment, life slowed down with a deep sense of sorrow and reverence, sensing that someone had died—a total stranger and yet, in the matrix of our humanity, one of us.
I couldn’t shake the sadness I felt as I continued to my destination. While I had no confirmation that someone had died, I could feel it. A more profound, primal feeling called empathy that we as a species are losing.
My planned day went about its business, but the gnawing sense of this accident drew me to check VDOT (Virginia Department of Transportation) accident reports. Later that day, the news came in that a 67-year-old man had been killed in his pickup truck, which had been hit head-on by another vehicle.
The man…was minutes from his home. Something compelled me to create a composite sketch of this man. Not an image but a backstory of his life. An acknowledgment of his existence and that, unlike the debris that would be swept away at the site, leaving no trace, his life, for the briefest moment in time, would be acknowledged by a stranger.
To whisper a prayer that his family and friends find peace, and in the seconds before impact, he felt the comforting embrace of something divine.
We can all be reasonably sure that when this man pulled away from his home, he most likely didn’t think—I’m going to die today. Unless we’re suffering from a life-threatening illness, rarely do we consider the fragility of life, the uncertainty of how days will unfold, or that we might take our last breath.
I wondered whether he lived alone or had a life partner. Did he kiss them goodbye and say, “I love you!” Or just “Bye.”
Did he have a pet whose hair he rustled one last time? Was he working on a project that would now fall silent, never to be completed?
Were there children—perhaps grandchildren who adored this man and were waiting for him to return? Maybe he’d only dashed out for a quick container of ice cream.
Would his friends, perhaps some lifelong, wonder how this could have happened, leaving an empty chair at the card table?
Had all his cares, unresolved issues, unspoken words, or words spoken in anger been tidied up before he left that morning?
If he were like most of us, he’d have assumed there would be time later in the day, as certain as the sun will rise tomorrow.
What was left unspoken, unfinished, or unresolved could wait—unless the wait vanishes.
The death of this stranger reminded me of my procrastination, stubbornness, and assumptions. I will no longer assume people know how much I appreciate or love them. Vocalizing has become a priority.
Unresolved will be resolved with closure.
Perhaps today, before the sun sets, we might each consider our own unspoken words and unfinished conversations. Who deserves to hear “I love you,” “Forgive me,” or “I forgive you” or simply “thank you for being in my life”? What would we want resolved if today were our last day to speak?
In those final seconds on Highway 29, I pray this 67-year-old stranger felt surrounded—not by twisted metal and sirens, but by every act of love he’d given and received, every life he’d touched, every moment of joy he’d experienced.
I pray he felt the invisible threads that connected him to all who loved him, and that somehow, in that briefest instant, he knew his life had mattered deeply. That a stranger would remember him. That his story would ripple outward, inspiring others to speak their love while there’s still time.
20 Comments
I’m so sorry you had to witness this tragedy but what a gift you gave this person to acknowledge his life and the loss of his life to this world. Everyone deserves to be recognized and remembered…even if only in the last fleeting moments. Thank you for sharing this moment so that the person can be remembered even more!
Linda – thank you for your kind words and thoughtful response. May his memory be a blessing. It was a startling reminder how life can change in the blink of an eye.
You drew me back to a time that still stabs my heart with sadness that can never be washed away with time.
I remember it like it yesterday feeling the same regret and sadness all over again
My son, my precious little boy who wanted everything to be like me was killed in 2005 in Iraq fighting a war today most don’t even remember and now is deemed does as a mistake. My son did not think it was a mistake at the time for being a patriot Marine meant you took the words, honor, courage, and commitment to heart semper fidelis is not just a quote. It is a creed that you live by and he lived by it. I have many many regrets that I could share that I don’t even think my family knows before he left which I know he left with a broken heart not because of anything that was wrong, but because it was a sense that he would never return. I don’t know if that’s the case. All I know is that when he left the last thing I said to him was goodbye. I regret that very, very much because I wish to final I should’ve been more open and said I’ll see you when you get back then if it was, I get back or a happy reunion. Sorry to go on about this, but I hope he knows that we still love him. We honor him and there are many in this country that remember and honor him. I’m just so sad that he did not get to enjoy being a father and a devoted husband. I know in my heart of hearts he would’ve been a great one and the world will miss him and what he could’ve done.
There are no words that will ever soothe the broken heart of a parent who has lost a child. It is a wound, carried for life – until you are reunited in a place that exists beyond this plane. While his death was so so tragic – his death had meaning and a higher purpose than most will ever understand. He had a calling that few hear and follow. It is not about what war – it is about a man willing to sacrifice himself for a noble cause. This type of courage, conviction, and honor is rare. It does not make it easier for those left behind – but for those who know their life’s purpose and mission – they are meeting their destiny. I often embrace a quote by Winston Churchill: “Never in the field of human conflict was so much owed by so many to so few.” The Jewish tradition offers us these words – May his memory be a blessing.
Thank you for sharing your incredible thoughts. For reminding me to never forget to say I love you as we may never see that person again.
I will always try to never forget to say I love you at least once a day you never know when it may be the last time you say it
The disintegration of his pick-up truck was gut wrenching and made my heart ache. It was a stark reminder to forgive, let go of grudges, and let the people you love know. It is for those we leave behind to have peace in our wake. <3
Oh my!! That was the first thing that went through my mind as I read this. The day is never promised; this makes you feel a sense of gratefulness for the small things we take for granted in life. A simple kiss on the cheek can mean the world to you once a person is no longer there. That’s a core memory that you’ll forever feel. My heart goes out to anyone who has ever been in this situation or knows someone it’s heartbreaking to read. Thank you for sharing Franny
Hi Tabitha – your words are so wise. The people who are left behind will always wonder because they didn’t have closure. To the greatest extent possible, we should practice our movement through life with a departure principal – remember to love, leave anger at the door, and be grateful for the people you in your life. <3
Great message! One that has stayed on my mind since I read it yesterday and thus a measure of how meaningful it is as a change agent.
Thank you, David. I will say it was an eye-opening experience.
Life is sIo precious..We need to live each and everyday like it’s our last .. I hate you had to witness this tragedy .???? Lifting up many prayers for his loved one’s????????
Tracy, thank you. You are right – life is so so precious. For humans, time is the rarest thing on earth. Somehow, I believe that man’s death held meaning – a reminder to hug everyone, have gratitude, and choose kindness. Thank you again.
Sorry about all the questions marks .didn’t mean to do that..
A great message for people like me because I forget to live a life that may not be here moments from now. This made me sad that I don’t because I always want my children and grandchildren and family to always know that I love them with my whole being but I take the days for granted because I get caught up in work and other things but what we all should remember is to live like there is no hour from now and let the small things go and not be worried with them. Be grateful for every moment that we are here. Thanks for sharing. Prayers for that family and Just wanted to say you always write stuff that makes me wiser and makes me more grateful
Thank you, Darlene. What a great message. You are so right about getting caught up in life – pressing ahead. I can’t say why this particular accident shook me so hard but it really made me stop and think about living each day. As you so beautifully wrote, “…to live like there is no hour from now.” Thank you.
Thank you again for reminding us we are humans & love speaks volumes! Excellent job
You are so right – love does speak volumes and we must practice it more. XOX
I love how present you are in life, and that you share with the rest of us. I love that you bring pause, insight, reflection, which enlightens our lives. Reminding us to be aware, and to act. As I get older, these messages beat stronger in my own heart. Thank you Fran. I cherish all that you teach me. I love you!
Thank you Kristi – I love you too and your kind, generous spirit. Perhaps as we age, we begin to discern that time is not infinite in this place. We become more aware of our connection to each other – or at least pray that we do. I just finished a novel, I am calling it the “Lights Within” and finishing up a new series of short stories about love. I truly appreciate the wind you provide under my wings.