I believe everyone has a bucket list. They might not call it that, but there are things in life that we all wish for, strive for, and want to put in our “accomplished” pile. There are other things that fall into another category. They are experiences that no one necessarily wishes to have happen, but often become a part of one’s life. They are the type of items that you find in a social media questionnaire: broken bones, ambulance rides, or being locked out of your car. I feel like I now have membership in a club I didn’t plan to join.

I attended a seminar one weekday evening in a nearby town. By the time the event was over, nighttime had fallen and the skies had opened. I was aware my gas tank was low but I had no desire to stop and fill up on a dark rainy night. I knew there would be no trouble getting home. Making a mental note, I planned to fill up the next day. I also did some mental calculations and thought I could get to work without any trouble but would need to fill up on my way home. The message on the dashboard nudged me into action: Fuel level low. Usually the message allows for the number of miles afforded you prior to the tank going empty. When the mileage number hits fifty, the message changes and you are left to your own devices to determine where you are within that fifty mile limit.

When the workday ends, I find myself driving home, usually with a joyful countenance. Not a care in the world hangs over me. It is because of that carefree exuberance that I overlooked the fact that the car needed gas. I passed several opportunities to fill the tank but none of them jogged my memory. I was almost home when I realized I had overlooked this important task. I am frugal by nature and usually I cross the state line to purchase gas as it is much cheaper. I live close to the border and ordinarily it doesn’t present a hardship. I said a silent prayer and kept driving. There were no other options left by this time and the usual drive through pastures and farm land was neither pleasant nor relaxing. With whiten knuckles, I continued on my course.

Just prior to reaching the location of the little country convenience store, there is a traffic circle. As I approached the circle I could feel the difference in the car. I asked for a miracle, that the large truck ahead of me would have no reason to slow or stop and we could both manage to make our way around the circle. It was necessary to stop for oncoming traffic. Starting again, I made my way around the circle, followed by a quick right turn and found I had exhausted even the fumes in my tank. I was just a few yards from the entrance of the gas station. I had an odd feeling, a calmness came over me. I edged the car to the right shoulder and turned off all the accessories. Putting my emergency blinkers on, I wanted to avoid a careless driver running into the back of the car. I opened the door and with my left leg out I knew it was not possible to push the car any further. Years ago, as a young woman, I had been successful pushing the VW Beetle off the side of the rode when it would intermittently die on me. Those days were long gone and I made a plan that I would hopefully be able to purchase a gas can and resolve my problem. Fortunately, I didn’t have to execute that plan.

As a car pulled up behind me, the driver, a young man, rolled his window down and asked if I needed help. He was out of his car and behind mine in a matter of moments. The driver behind him reacted in the same way. Another driver, advancing from the opposite direction, pulled his car into the parking lot and came running across the street. I sat back down in the driver’s seat and put the car in neutral. As the three men pushed the car I was steering it to the closest pump. It was over just as quickly as it had begun. Feeling foolish, I did make a point to thank all of them for their kindness. The only one that seemed to linger was the gentleman who had pulled into the parking lot. As he walked out of the convenience store, I found it odd that he thanked me. Evidently he was looking for a reason to stop and purchase a lottery ticket. I was his excuse. I would be interested in learning if he received a windfall as payment for his gallantry. Even with the purchase of his ticket, I realized that it took me longer to fill my tank than it did to have strangers see my plight and rectify it.

I suppose it isn’t all that bad that this was the first time that I experienced such a misfortunate event. Actually, it was refreshing to be the recipient of this gracious act coming from strangers. Upon retrospect though, I realize this wasn’t the first time I have run out of gas. As I approached my divorce I found I was deplete of energy, physical and emotional. Professionally, I had experienced the elimination of two positions. Again, I was running on empty. These, and other challenges, have miraculously still let me arrive at my destination. Sometimes I had to rely on myself to find a way to get my vehicle back on track. Other times I was assisted by a solid support system that helped push me and allowed me to find my way. I have come to the realization that we all have run out of gas one time or another. It could be literally, figuratively or both. It has taken me a considerable amount of time to realize that life isn’t a race but we need to remain driven. The course may change but sitting it out, by the roadside, should never be an option.