Months later, the black emergency card still sat in my wallet.
I never looked at it the same way again.
It used to mean preparation for something terrible happening to us.
Now it reminded me of something much simpler.
An emergency isn’t always a broken furnace, a hospital visit, or a car that won’t start.
Sometimes it’s the moment the truth finally reaches your house.
And sometimes the first responsible thing you can do is stop protecting the person who brought the disaster through the door.
