sometimes you’re the windshield

Driving back from c-ville today I had many things on my mind. Mostly my best friend’s wedding, but more specifically my maid-of-honor toast. Now, I’ve been in a ton of weddings, but I’ve never had to stand in front of people and speak. The last time I spoke in front of a crowd must have been in 10th grade English for a really bad speech on Thoreau.
Many ideas have come and gone through my mind and my fantasy is that people stand at the end. Not so much for the bride and groom, but because it’s the best durn wedding speech they’ve heard. Um, yeah, narcissism. I own it and claim it. Thanks.

Then when I am less than five miles from home I notice a bug or something caught in my windshield wiper. The wings are flapping wildly because of my speed on the highway. I try to slow down on the off ramp and when I get to the spotlight I realize it is a bug. The thing that was killing me was that his legs were still moving, even at 60 miles an hour, and not from the wind. When the car was stopped, he was still struggling. So, I crawled slowly to my parking lot so that his little wings wouldn’t flap so much. I parked and got out to inspect, but it was too much. He was so crammed into the thing that there was no way I could free him. He was big and possibly a bee. Normally I would want him gone. I’ve certainly smashed my share of bugs before, ignoring the guilt I’ve felt for the killing. But today, I couldn’t stand the suffering. And now there is a violent thunderstorm about and I’m thinking of that little bug, struggling to be free and now drowning.

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