They say it is a miracle that, when skidding across four lanes of I-91, the family van didn't hit any other cars.
And I agree.
They say it is a miracle that, although my eyelid was cut clean through, my eyes themselves were unscratched.
And I agree.
They say it is a miracle that the damage to all of us wasn't much worse than it was, what with everybody but my mother and I—
and my grandfather, of course, but he tends not to be mentioned together with us survivors—
being up and about by the following day.
And I agree.
They say that we can find some comfort in the fact that my younger brother and his wife just had a son, whom they've named after my grandfather. Ultimately, they say, life goes on.
And I agree.
And they say all sorts of things about silver linings, and Divine Providence, and the importance of keeping a positive outlook and appreciating every day one gets, and lots of other crap along those lines.
And I agree.