I have a deep distrust of April Fools Day. I worry that the joke is always going to be on me.
Maybe it isn't true. Maybe my memory is playing tricks of time on me. Maybe it was the day before or the day after or even the next week. What I remember was that it was April 1st.
I stood in front of the bathroom mirror taking my time adjusting my side ponytail like only a girl in grade six can. When I was satisfied I went downstairs and joined my parents and sister at the kitchen table. I think we eating pancakes. It was breakfast. Or maybe brunch. Maybe there wasn't even any food at all.
But the four of us were sitting there. And then the earth titled.
There was crying and yelling and tears and sadness. One of us left. Three remained.
Two years later
My mother, sister and I were heading downtown on the bus. I was sent ahead to by bus tickets from the corner store. Coming out the door, I saw them waiting for me on the other side of the street. The light changed green and I tore across the intersection to meet them.
A car coming from my left decided to keep driving. It ran a red light and into me.
I hit the hood. I rolled up onto the car and then flew fifteen feet in the air, landing on my back. Somehow, most likely the puffy ski jacket I was wearing that day, I manged to walk away. I was fine. Except for some bruises and a broken spirit.
I am cautious on April 1st. Ready for the worst. Ready for it to be over.
Brie @ Capital Mom