Wish to God I were pulling your leg, because it really scared the living bejeezus out of me.
When I turned 18, I decided to fulfil a dream I had of going to Paris. We had a foreign exchange student at my school who had used a certain agency in the exchange program, and they also arragned short-term summer trips for school kids to other countries. I called them up, and they told me about two seperate trips to France that were a couple of weeks apart: TWA Flight 800 and TWA Flight 801. I wanted to leave on 801 because it was the earlier flight.
I saved up a lot of money for the trip, but as the deadline neared for 801, I found myself short, so I called them, and said I would take TWA Flight 800 which would give me more time to save up the extra money I needed. I bitched and moaned for a couple of days about not being able to go earlier, and so a relative of mine offered to lend me the money so I could leave on schedule. I thought about it for a while, and wasn’t going to accept the offer because I didn’t feel right about borrowing the money. I turned down the offer, but the relative insisted I go and have a good time, and after a couple of days, I figured “What the hell,” and finally agreed to borrow the money. I called the travel company back, and changed my booking to TWA Flight 801.
Had a lovely time on the trip, but a day or so after I got back, I went back to my job at a convenience store. It was early in the morning, and the newspapers had just arrived, and on the cover, in big bold letters was a legend announcing the crash of TWA Flight 800. I had to sit down. I was shaking so hard that I dropped the papers. My boss came in to find me crying, sick and shaky. She sent me home for the day. I could barely drive. I just kept thinking, “My God, that could have been me. That could have been me. Oh, Jesus, that could have been me!” I even felt guilty because of the fact that I hadn’t been on the flight . . . somone else might have taken the seat I decided not to use and been killed.
To this day, I pray for the families, and cry every time I see footage of the memorials. That could be my mother throwing those flowers into the grey ocean surf.
I thank God and my guardian angel every day, because at this point I’m alive merely by chance and circumstance. It made me realize how precious my life is to me, and how quickly it can be gone. I honestly treasure every day, every minute now, because it’s a gift of fate. Something like this gives you a new appreciation for even a day that seems awful, because it’s a day that you’re still here to kiss your mom, to pet your dog, and to realize just how lucky you are.