The victim also sustained a deep cut, a six-inch gash on his neck near his Adam’s apple. The cut was deep and sharp enough to cause the skin and flesh to open up like a pair of pouting lips; but not deep and sharp enough to snip the carotid artery, or rip the windpipe located just a breath and a heartbeat away. Otherwise the victim would have died convulsing like a chicken slaughtered in the traditional way. Unimaginable precision to the minutest detail! That was all I could think of.
When I realized how close, literally, millimeters away, this man’s throat and artery were from being ripped and snipped, and how he had survived the force of the collision without any broken bones or damaged organs, I started putting pieces of the puzzle together and saw what (later) I had to call… The Perfect Accident.
I pieced together large chunks of how God in His sovereign wisdom allowed the events leading to the accident to unfold. Events that, under normal circumstances, I would have passed over as everyday occurrences; but because of the near-fatal accident and the infinitesimal probabilities that accompanied it, I see, have become eerily superintended.
It all began when we missed refueling stops on our way to the wedding. We skipped refueling at a gas station along EDSA where we were supposed to meet Joel, when he was running late for the rendezvous. We decided to leave him and refuel later at a gas station along the South Luzon Expressway. But we also missed this refueling stop because nobody was looking when we passed the gas station. Every driver has missed a refueling stop once or twice without consequence — but not this time.
Later, before the wedding reception was over, a sketch of a shorter (new) route through the Calamba exit was being handed around for those with vehicles returning to Manila. We took note of the directions and decided to try that route on our way home, instead of the usual route, the Sta.Rosa exit, where we came in.
So on our way home we took this route. As we drove along the new route we began to feel that we were descending into what was becoming an endless road into abysmal darkness. Suddenly, the fuel warning light went on. We decided to turn back knowing we were lost, descending into darkness, and now running out of gas. (The refueling stops we missed now factored in.)
The pressure to find our way back and the fear of running out of gas along a dark mountain road was mounting. Anxiety was beginning to grip us since the road from the Midlands (where we got lost) back to the Highlands (the right way) was a steep uphill climb and full of sharp curves. It was darkness all around.