The Last Kiss


We never know when the last kiss will happen.

Daves text read: “Had an accident this morning. Everyone is fine. Have to go for a drug test now. Not sure what happens the rest of the day. Made a left at a 4-way-stop and a girl broadside me.”

Our day had started like every other workday, lumbering out of bed, still full of sleep. Breakfast made and a kiss as Dave went out the door. Only I was a mess the rest of the morning, waiting for a phone call.

His job requires driving a company car. Protocol dictates his next step. Accidents happen. That’s why they are called accidents, it’s unintentional, otherwise they would be referred to as normals.

Have you been there? To know how I felt?

This is why I rise at o-dark-thirty. To see him. To get what may at any given day be my last kiss. My mind took me places none of us care to be.

His student passengers were unharmed. To his credit he remained calm and collected. A later report from one of his colleagues confirmed his level-headedness kept the students from panic.

Have you experienced that last kiss? Need I mention the emotion of sending your beloved police officer or fire-fighter off to another workday?

Never underestimate a goodbye kiss. There is more meaning packed into it than the passionate ones.

It says I love you… I will miss you while you are gone…Thank you for your work ethic…You make our lives more comfortable…I appreciate you…Be safe…I look forward to your return tonight.

God willing, and he did, my loved one returned home from just another day of work that included an accident. Jesus is always with you too.


            Tooling down the street, minding our own business, we suddenly find ourselves swerving out of control. Our hearts were light, giddy for how our future was unfolding. I was five months pregnant with our first child. How quickly our picture changed!

            My husband Dave had recently gotten out of bootcamp, with the Navy stationing us in Glenview, Illinois. The least likely place one would think to plant a military base. It was what I considered an upscale neighborhood. Middle class may have been a better description. One must keep in mind comparisons; I was raised in a semi-rural area.

            We were heading home from purchasing a sleeper sofa and an area rug. That was no small feat. Back in the day, it was difficult for young people to establish credit. Today charge cards are handed out like trick or treat candy.

            As newlyweds we purchased a mobile home; only to put it up for sale nine months later. Uncle Sam needed a few good men to serve their country during the Viet Nam era. Moving to our converted barracks apartment, furniture was sparse. Hence, our purchase.

            Suddenly a car shot out of the parking lot of a shopping mall, running a green light, hitting us. I suppose that could be reworded. We ran a red light. Traffic signals of Illinois may be different now.

            At the time we lived there, traffic lights were stationed at the corner of intersections, meaning a driver had to take their eyes off the road to see it. If anyone had asked me, I would have said that was poor planning of the road commission. No none asked.

            The elderly man that hit us got more than a fair amount of feedback from his son. “Dad, you had an accident with a service man? Do you have any idea how to contact him? You’re never gonna see this guy again. How do you feel, did you have any whiplash?”

            Several days later, Dave did contact the man, with cash in hand to pay for his damages. He was surprised to see us, welcoming us into his humble home. It was our turn to be surprised; the gentleman presented us with a Release of Claims document. He was not holding us responsible for any physical harm incurred from the accident.

            Enough time has passed for my reflection on this unfortunate incident and see the comparisons. The old guy didn’t have to do this; he was more concerned about a couple young kids and their unborn child. I know of a guy who voluntarily died for mankind, who was prone to do wrong.

Living in an imperfect world, Jesus made a way for us all to ultimately look forward to living in perfection. He didn’t have to do it, but did so by choice. He was more concerned about you and I.