About a month ago, in the mess of pre-anniversary weekend stuff, I was in a minor car accident.  I was rear ended (in my lovely new car with less than 3000km on it at the time) in some messy weather.  I didn’t see it coming… I didn’t brace myself, so the injury to myself was a little bit of stiffness for a day or so, and mostly just the shock of it all.

I did the common, yet admittedly risky, thing of not going through insurance — at the request of the person (let’s call her Sheila) who bumped into me.  Sheila asked that of me, I told her I didn’t care as long as I got the money to cover the repairs, and we went from there.  Now, being in the present day and age, automobile bumpers are no longer made of materials that actually endure being bumped into like, say, steel!  No, now we have plastic bumpers that crack, or shatter, or (in my case) find a rather large screw permanently embedded in it.  And so proper repairs do not come cheap.  I wasn’t satisfied with a filler patch on my brand new car.  That actually would have been nearly as expensive as the replacement… crazy eh?  So, a full rear bumper replacement it was for me.

I had the repairs done and passed on the final cost to Sheila.  Then, these past two Wednesdays I have met with my new acquaintance to receive partial payments from her.  Tonight I received the outstanding amount and now we’re done.  Sheila and I never have to meet or speak again.

The thing is… the bumper is fixed… the money is paid to me before the Visa bill has even come due… but can’t stop thinking about her.  She’s not a bad person.  She’s not an unreasonable person.  It was a hard way to meet a new person, but overall I found Sheila to be nice and responsible, willing to take on the consequence of what happened.  In our various conversations, perhaps most notably tonight’s, I have learned little pieces about Sheila and what she’s gone through this last little while.  Basically I see somebody that needs… possibly longs for… a friend.  We have next to nothing in common, except our bumpers meeting each other a month ago… and yet I find myself concerned for her and her welfare.

I think I might call her in a few weeks just to see how she is doing.  So random.  So out of my normal way of doing things.  Yet so very likely that I will find myself doing just that.

Hi – my name is Donna Harris, and I just surprised myself again.