Special Mom’s blog

2026-01-18

Can I narrate an incident (or two)?

If you could un-invent something, what would it be?

A forty minute drive to the temple yesterday evening turned out to be an hour and forty minute ordeal.

Two accidents on the parkway just a few miles apart and timing so close left was us in a snail traffic.

The first was a three car accident but the cars looked fine. The second one involved a total loss of all three cars. it was not a scene to be witnessed.

I checked the news this morning and both the accidents were not mentioned. Hopefully everyone were safe.

We invented cars, we invented safety measures. We saved lives. We then invented phone and then came the smart ones. Our trip was just thirty eight minutes long but our GPS kept adding minutes and warned us of the first accident. As we passed it, we were notified about the next one too.

We have invented one too many things. We humans are hyper active. We would keep inventing things. This morning I have no mood to analyze what to uninvent. The first responders and the scenes of accident fresh in mind.

Anyhow we reached in time for the last services called Sayanotsa at the temple followed by a dinner at the Indian restaurant. Life moves on.

Picture courtesy my younger son’s college campus. He has a lot of snow unlike us.

4 responses to “Can I narrate an incident (or two)?”

Shel R.

January 18, 2026 at 1:49 pm

My son and I drove through some pretty nasty weather this morning to get to work, and cars kept flying around us kicking up snow. 30 minutes took us an hour.
I agree…life moves on, and we just have to go on with our days. 😊
Hope everyone was okay.

Have a blessed day.

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1. ganga1996
  
  January 18, 2026 at 1:54 pm
  
  I hope everyone were fine. 🙏
  
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Ab

January 18, 2026 at 3:05 pm

I hope those impacted families are ok!

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SRIKANTH

January 18, 2026 at 3:28 pm

Your words capture the whirlwind of modern life so vividly—the collision of technology and human experience, safety and fragility, frustration and gratitude.

It’s profound how in one evening you held both the weight of those chaotic, unseen accidents and the calm of temple services, the cold reality of wreckage and the warmth of shared dinner. That duality—how life demands we hold grief and grace in the same heart—is something you expressed beautifully.

I’m struck by the quiet humanity in your reflection: the unspoken hope that everyone was safe, the gratitude for first responders, and the mindful pause at the end, choosing not to solve or “uninvent,” but simply to acknowledge, to breathe, and to move forward.

Sometimes the deepest commentary is not in analyzing what to remove from our world, but in noticing what remains essential: compassion, presence, and the small sanctuaries—whether a temple at dusk or a meal shared—that steady us along the way.

Thank you for sharing this moment. It was a reminder to drive gently through life, in every sense. I’m glad you arrived safely, in time for peace.

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