Driving north, for hours upon hours. Headed for a family celebration.

Darkness comes swiftly. Teen comments on the compact darkness, very different from the much-lighter darkness of the town we live in, which is, throughout, well-lit. Too well-lit, I sometimes wonder? Never that pitch black night, that only is experienced when far away from well-lit towns. Where the darkness is so dark, it’s as if it’s of higher density, more compact, the air itself has a richer texture to it.

Driving on dark roads, through the forests of southern Sweden, up through Småland and Östergötland.
Hubby behind the wheel, teen beside him, me and the tween in the back.

Wham!

Hubby slams on the breaks, and I look up, through the windshield. See a roedeer in the middle of the road, just a few meters ahead of us, looking me straight in the eyes. It skips towards the side of the road, and when we come upon it, it has just made it past the width of the front of the car.

Roedeer jittery jumping to safety into the forest, leaving us in equal safety in the car.

Near miss.

Heart pounding.
Tween asking why we slammed the breaks, being the only one who didn’t see the roedeer. ”I almost slammed my head in the car seat in front of me”, he whines, chocked when he hears what just *almost* happened.
Hubby driving on, shaken, like all of us, including the roedeer.

But for the quick reflex of hubby, what might have happened?
Gratitude filling me, all of me, from top to toe. Pulsing within, along my racing heart.

Near misses.
Sometimes, they bring a gift. A wake-up call.
Sometimes, they pass unnoticed, and the gift is not brought into awareness.

This near miss – a gift. Reminding me to make the most of what I’ve got, here, now, today, in this very moment. Enjoy what I have, and remember to take pleasures in the small things of life. Such as a look shared between hubby and wife, in the rearview mirror, as the car speeds ahead again, albeight a bit slower than before. The realization, in that shared look, that life is both precious and gorgeous, and we’d better make the most of it, because it can end, in an instant. And it will. Sometime. Until then, I’ll take this near miss as a gift of life, a reminder to live a life that matters.