I could have cropped the photo better so that the car was centered, but I wanted to leave in the pretty palm trees to the right. This is Nahda Road in Dubai, and that is my car.
Actually, it’s Allah’s car. He gave it to us, and if He chooses to, He can take it back. Legally, HF owns it, and presently, the mechanic possesses it in his repair shop.
I’m not sure how many arms and legs the repair will cost, but InshaAllah, the car can be repaired. And Alhamdulillah, no one was hurt. I rear-ended a man who stopped suddenly when a gardener ran across the road, but I was buckled up and did manage to slow the car down a tiny bit before the impact.
(skreee-smack!)
Alhamdulillah, the gardener made it safely to the other side, and the other guy’s car- a black Peugot 307- must have had a seriously strong bumper, because compared to the damage I did to our poor Mazda, his was negligible. His bumper will need repainted. My radiator will need replaced.
HF, being the awesome HF that he is, thanked me for crashing the Mazda, because he wanted a Lexus anyway. And Owlie zoomed to my rescue (only getting moderately lost) and filled her car with everything that had been filling my car- the safety seats, shopping, toys, clothes, etc. And my inlaws very lovingly arranged for a tow-truck to come and collect the car and take it away to the mechanic. And then I took a cab for the one kilometer between myself and my destination, and life proceeds as normal except with considerably less driving.
I got a ride home from Owlie, all the way out to our personal corner of Abu Dhabi territory, and fast forward- two days later, I’m waiting for HF to come home from work so I can take the car back into town to buy such frivolities as milk and diapers. HF says that if I needed a mini-van there are other ways of making my point. Of course, he’s also the man who called me in the ER over three years ago, following our first car accident, and said “You know, if you wanted me to spend more time with you there are better ways of asking.”
Alhamdulillah. One could be cynical and say that when it rains, it pours, but it would be more accurate to say that rain is a blessing from Allah, no matter when and how it comes, and sometimes it may be a bit too much for our taste, but we have no idea what the greater purpose and benefit of the storm is. Not that it’s storming. It’s been a little drizzly lately in Abezville, but I refuse to be soggy and miserable. I’m going to play in the rain and jump in the puddles, InshaAllah.
Inna Lillahi Wa Inna Ileihi Rajioon. 🙂
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