On January 3, my mom, grandmother, and I were heading to a nail salon when our car began accelerating at full speed with the brake malfunctioning. We hit three other cars (none of which, thankfully, sustained serious damage) with screeching noise, yet the car continued accelerating. When the car raced into a thick streetlight pole in front of us, I thought that was it. My life was over. We crashed into that streetlight, leaving the front of the car crushed and split in half. The white airbags popped out with clouds of dust, my seatbelt fastened until I could hardly breathe, and blood dripped down my mom’s face from the impact. Later, as ambulances arrived and I spoke with the police to manage the situation, I learned that a plethora of miracles saved all of us. If there hadn’t been other cars to slow down the speed of our car, if the brake malfunction had happened on a highway, and if the car had accelerated for a few more seconds before crashing, we would have sustained very serious injuries, and potentially, death. I had thought these accidents only happen in medical documentaries, something that seems too serious and unlikely to ever happen in my life. But it did. And here are some lessons that this experience taught me.
In movies, when the main character gets into an accident that leaves their life uncertain, glimpses of their memories flash before their eyes like a series of photos. I used to consider these scenes a cliché before experiencing them myself. In that split second when I saw the pole and believed that my life was over, many memories flashed by me: my first day at Andover, hangouts with friends, and the basketball matches with my two younger brothers. The emotion that overwhelmed me the most at that moment was not fear or anger, but an intense sense of regret. The series of recollections ended with a regretful realization that I had wasted so much of my life, attempting to live up to the golden standard of a “successful life.” As the past sixteen years went by, I recalled the moments when I gave up on family time for grades, hobbies for extracurriculars, and birthday parties for competitions. I had spiralled into the habit of subconsciously delaying the pursuit of true passions and joys at the prospect of a materially successful life.
It took me a whole car accident and the lasting aftereffects to learn that I should make the most out of the present because the future is not guaranteed. A day prior to the accident, I had coincidentally made a list of everything I wanted to enjoy during Senior Spring and the summer before college: enrolling in a cooking class, playing the cello again, holding a bazaar, volunteering at an animal shelter, going on a duo trip with my younger brother William, and more. Now, I plan on checking off this list as soon as possible. I will enjoy these activities and relish the joy because I was blessed enough to be given a “new” life. I will be sure to make the most out of it.
This accident did not just leave me with regret; it also added so much gratitude. I had complained about the cod at Paresky Commons (Paresky), the freezing New England weather, and my two annoying brothers, until I realized that I had the most valuable privilege: life. And the second best: health. Every moment that I had was a blessing that I had forgotten for so long, considering life as a default and something that I deserve. My near-death experience taught me that the opportunity to live another healthy, “normal” day is a blessing, so I should be thankful and live purposefully while I can. And by purposefully, I don’t mean chasing after material successes or an extra line on my resumé, but living a life that can positively impact people around me. Now, my motivation behind hard work and dedication lies not in chasing after success, but rather appreciating the miracles that enabled me to live another day: the friends who hold my hands through the rough moments, William, who calls me to say hi, and the Andover community that works hard together.
To be honest, though, I won’t, or more like can’t, wake up tomorrow morning with a completely renewed mindset. I still struggle with broadening my perspective and vision beyond the material world that I have become used to. Regardless, I promise that I will try my best. Whenever I see a car, a news article on many accidents and tragedies, or my family members, I promise to remind myself that tomorrow is not a given. Today might be my last, but even when that happens, I hope I don’t regret the yesterday that I lived.
Still, though, death scares me. Following this accident, I instinctively calculate the chances of a crash whenever I see transportation, and the unpredictability of life brings me anxiety. However, I have decided to look on the bright side: Though life is limited, we have it now, so we’d better enjoy and explore every gift that it offers. I know I won’t excessively toil for the future at the expense of memories, love, and people who give me purpose in life. So, dear reader, I really hope you remember to wear seatbelts and live for the present, not solely for the unguaranteed future.
