It's not about the mulch.

One of our major projects this year was to be the replacement of our could-be- 60- year-old landscape plantings in front of our house. We hired someone to pull out the bushes and then replace with the new plants we had chosen at a local landscape company.  Easy- peasy from my vantage point.  The finishing touch was the addition of the new mulch.  Looking good.

Busy at work, my husband came to me to say we were short on mulch.  Not good news - we had snagged the last of the texture and color we wanted days before.  Not to worry, my husband assured me.  We needed to add the mulch to a very self-contained area and if the new batch of mulch didn't quite match, it would still look fine.  I encouraged him to pick up the new mulch on the weekend and for the time being - go back to bed, as he needed to work tonight.

Back to work.  All is quiet in the house; all is well with the world.  About 45 minutes into my afternoon work, I received a call from an unknown number.  Don't ask me why - but I did answer it.  As soon as I pick up, I hear my husband yelling, it seemed, into the phone,

"I already called 911."

"He was hurt, needs an ambulance."  
"She's already dead - focus on him."

"I need you to help stop traffic."

I was saying things like "Where are you?  Who's phone is this? Why are you yelling?  Where are you?  What's happening?  Who's hurt?  Who's dead?"  And finally in resignation - "I thought you were in bed!"

So, the story starts to unfold.  The mulch was obviously a hotter topic than I had realized.  As soon as I suggested bed, he had gone to the garage, hopped in the car, and left to the afore-mentioned local landscape store for the mulch.  On his way home, headed down a pretty, winding street next to the golf course - a car, approaching from the opposite direction, veered off the road, bounced off a guard rail, crossed the center lane and hit the car in front of Tom.  He pulled over, and with years of experience in crime scene work, approached the two cars.  The gentleman in the car in front of Tom, had minor injuries and was clearly disoriented.  The woman who had crossed over the lane, had passed away.  His assessment was that she had suffered a medical emergency and lost control of the car.  A broken leg with no signs of blood would indicate she had passed prior to the accident.  He kept traffic flowing with the help of others and spoke with the injured man until the police showed up on scene.  He called me to let me know he was okay from the injured man's phone because his was charging at home.  Although I appreciated the call, I already thought he was safe in bed in the room above me.  Even on the most mundane of days, we never really know what is in store for us.

As soon as the adrenaline kicked back to normal levels, Tom did go to bed.  I listened this time for the patter of his big old feet.  We talked about the story for a few days.  People thought it was funny that I had no idea what was going on in  my husband's life, until the call.  The story made the news and people thought it was a sad story for "Anne," the woman with the medical emergency and for the guy in front of Tom.  Tom was lucky, I was clueless, and the paths of two people briefly met with bigger implications for both.  As a bystander/first-responder, Tom's life got back to normal after his moment of being in the right place at the right time.  Just not where I thought he was.  End of story, right?

Well, we thought so too, until yesterday - a note came from an unknown address.  It was a lovely note from "Anne's" sister.  The note expressed gratitude that Tom was where he was, that June afternoon.  The sister and her family took comfort in knowing Anne was not alone in her final trip down Pixley Road.  There had been someone there to guard her until help arrived.  Her sister went on to speak of the fullness of Anne's life, the love for her family and pets.  The note gave Anne's sister the opportunity to express her grief, her love of her sister, and her gratitude to a stranger who was destined for more than sleeping or buying mulch that afternoon.  It reminded us that life goes on after the news story, after the adrenaline settles, after the road is cleared and traffic resumes.  Somewhere out there, Anne's family will continue to honor her life and keep her alive in memories, just as all families do for their loved ones when the rest of the world moves on.