The Accident

I had had enough. My life hadn't turned out at all as I'd planned or even expected. I wanted more. I wanted better. But at my age I knew I wasn't going to get either. What good was living? What purpose was my life? Just to make money for the family?

I thought I'd have a great job when I started out in computer technology. There were so many jobs I had my pick. I was on my way up. I found myself an almost-beautiful woman who shared my drive and ambition.

Then the tech bubble burst. My job disappeared overnight. I work in a menial job that I would never have taken under other circumstances. And I look at my wife. I don't have an almost-billboard wife any more, I have an old wife.

My kids don't have time for me and heaven forbid I ask them for anything. Their lives are good. Mine is not.

Every day when I drive to work on the two lane country road, gigantic trucks swoosh past me going the other way. I am an ant in my dilapidated car. My answer appeared on that road! I would run into one of those trucks. At the speed we'd both be going, I'm sure I would die immediately. And because it was an accident, my family would get my meager life insurance. That policy used to be worth something until I had to borrow from it.

Dear Agatha,

Thank you for being my wife for all these years and for putting up with me. I'm sorry I am a failure. I wanted to do better. You can do better. Find yourself a nice man who will treat you like you deserve. Helping raise our children was something I did right.

Destroy this note immediately so that you can be sure to get the life insurance.

Know that I love you,
T

I wiped the tears from my cheeks, folded the note and stuck it between the stack of towels in the bathroom, where she would be sure to find it. Then I selected the day. And the time my life would end.

I reviewed my few important papers. I made sure they were organized and located where my wife would find them. I knelt at my bedside and prayed for courage. I also prayed for God to forgive me and to understand I was doing this for my family.

Driving to work the next morning, I reminisced about the special times my wife and I had shared. Maybe she wasn't a looker, but she was dependable, lovable, and most of all, she loved me no matter what. I thought of my children. They all had children of their own who spent time with their Pop Pop. My kids were good parents. I must have done something right. Maybe I had done more than one thing right. Maybe I could live my life instead of being a coward and ending it.

Yes, I could! I would be a more appreciative husband and caring father, loving my grandchildren. Those monstrous trucks were safe. I'd let them race right past me.

I gazed in the rear view mirror and I watched as a car drove up quickly behind me. The police? No, just a guy in a hurry going too fast. Much too fast. He was practically touching my bumper.

Suddenly I felt a jolt and heard a crash as the car behind me tried to pass on the double yellow lines and clipped the corner bumper of my car. I lost control and crossed t lanes, running into the truck coming towards me. I closed my eyes.

A few weeks later, as she was cleaning the bathroom to keep herself busy and not think about all that had happened over the past few weeks, she found a piece of paper stuck between the pile of towels.

Dear Maria,

I tried to be a good husband. I tried to be faithful to you. I failed both times. I am so sorry for the hurt I caused you. Yet you stayed with me! Maybe what I do today will make up, at least a little, for the pain I caused you.

I have all my papers in order in the desk drawer. You must destroy this note so the officials think I died in an accident, not on purpose.

Don't be angry with me. Be happy. I love you,

Arty

Why would he write this? He was recovering quite well and was expected to be released from the hospital soon. She felt sorry for the poor guy in the other car who had died.