A knock sounded on the bedroom door. I looked up from the computer, as my son entered the room. Hair combed just so, blue and white checkered polo, tan cargo shorts. Sunglasses completed the picture of the casual modern male. Hip and cool, he was looking for the keys to the family car. His own car, the one we had decided to give him, was sitting in the driveway with the tags not yet registered. He was getting that done on Mon. This was Saturday. Two more days and the car would be his own, I know he was excited. Things were coming together for him.
There was some discussion between father and son about which car he should take. Dad didn't want him to take the Focus, because he had places to go. Son didn't want to take the Camry, because he would have to take the time to remove the two TVs sitting in the back, on their way to a good home. He talked Dad into letting him take the Focus. He paused as I spoke up. "You're going to Sherman? I don't feel comfortable about it. I don't want you to go. I don't feel good about it." "It will be fine, he said, we have to go get my girlfriend's phone fixed." I spoke up again. "Your safety is more important to me than her phone. I wish you would not go."
Feeling tired, I decided to lay down for a while. It was quiet. The Mr. fell asleep in his chair. I woke up after a few minutes and a prayer rose to my lips. Lord please protect them. Then I fell back into a light sleep. A little while later I opened my eyes again. Lord bring them home safe. Again I dozed. Lord let your angels be with them. Again and again I dozed, woke and prayed, dozed woke and prayed.
Then the Mr's phone rang. My eyes snapped open and I knew. I knew it was my son. I knew there was an accident. I knew it was going to be bad. My heart was racing, sweat breaking out on my brow before the Mr. even began to speak. Matthew? Accident? Is everyone OK? There are ambulances? Police are there? Is your girlfriend ok? No? She's hurt? We are on our way!
By now I was running around the room like a crazy person. Every mother's worst nightmare was coming true right before my eyes. Too frightened to cry, and out of my mind I ran to the sink and began to furiously brush my teeth. I grabbed my socks and ran out the door. Alyssa was standing in her doorway, wondering what in the world was happening. I could only whisper as I ran down the stairs, didn't even have the breath to shout, Matt's been in an accident and then we were outside. Problem. TVs still in the back seat. No problem for the Mr, He knew exactly what to do. He just opened up the back doors and threw them out! Right into the yard! And then we took off driving about a hundred miles an hour, leaving the TVs in the dust. Matt had said he was at the corner of hway 82 and 121. We quickly arrived at the intersection but clearly there was nothing happening there. We thought maybe he meant hways 56 and 121. We drove there. Nothing. By now I was starting to get really hysterical. He wasn't answering his phone. We couldn't find him. It was eerie. It was too quiet. All around us, people were enjoying the late Saturday afternoon. Eating dinner, talking, shopping, I was losing my mind in the car as we calmly drove all over town looking for screaming sirens that weren't there, tuning our ears to the wail of the ambulances, and hearing only birds chirping, and the sound of the wind blowing in the trees. FINALLY the phone rang again. This time he was able to tell us where he was a little more accurately. He was on hway 82, just a few miles from home, near the small town of Ravenna. We began to drive. The road had never seemed so long. It felt like we drove for an hour. In reality it might have been five minutes. Whatever small amount of calm I had been able to muster in that five minutes was completely shattered as we came upon the scene. We saw the lights. They were everywhere. The hway was blocked off. There were police cars and ambulances everywhere. There were tow trucks and people, so many people. Then I saw the car.
There was nothing left of the car but a mangled heap of metal entangled in a long strip of gnarled and twisted guard rail. All of the air bags had deployed. The doors hung open. One entire wheel was completely missing. The hood looked like a piece of crumpled aluminum foil wadded up around the windshield. And most of the front of the car on the driver's side was just... gone.
I lost control at that point. We pulled around to the emergency vehicles and were stopped by a police officer. Those are our kids! My husband practically belted out the words, probably the hardest words he has ever uttered in his life. The whole thing was like something out of a movie. It was surreal. I thought my heart was going to beat out my chest. I really thought I might have a heart attack. The officer waved us in and we drove toward the lights. We came to a slow stop. I couldn't get out. I could not make my feet move. I sat rooted to the seat in absolute terror. I have never felt anything so raw. Nothing. All I could think was That's my baby! My baby is in that ambulance! The Mr. got out and went to the ambulance. I couldn't think, couldn't breathe. All I could do was close my eyes and pray. I opened my eyes and saw that he was coming back to the car. He leaned in. They're going to be OK! She's has broken bones, but she will be all right. He is ok. They are OK. We began to make our way down the road toward the hospital. We drove past the remains of our vehicle and slowed down in amazement as we really got a good look at what was left of our car.
What felt like hours later we finally arrived at the hospital trauma bay to find the two of them stretched out side by side separated only by a curtain. Cat scans, X rays, tox screens, blood tests, doctors, nurses, lab technicians, and in the background the busy beeping of the oxygen and heart monitors incessantly letting us know they still lived. Telling us that they would be ok. Telling this mother that despite the way it initially looked, her worst nightmare was in fact, NOT going to be coming true. I don't think I have ever felt such an emotional reprieve.
I had to walk outside and just lean my head against the brick of the hospital The swing from horror to relief was too fast. It was too much. I just could not believe that my baby was getting out of this with a sore wrist. His girlfriend was going home sporting a broken collarbone and two gashes in her head, one now stitched up. And tomorrow they would both be very sore.
We came home and into the house. There was a lot of friendly chaos, trying to get everybody situated and comfortable. The girlfriend didn't want to call her parents until morning, so we just put her in bed in the air conditioned back bedroom with her pain meds and let her begin to rest. My son came into the kitchen where I was standing at the sink. He stood there for a moment. Mom? he said. Yes Son? I replied. I should be dead. I just looked quietly down into the sink, seeing again all those flashing lights, and the mangled car. Yes, Son, I know. was all I said.
I woke up this morning and stepped outside. I sat down on the back porch with my coffee and just sipped and thought about life and death. The house was still asleep. It was going to be another beautiful summer day. I thought about all the things that happened. And all the things that didn't. I thought about that guard rail. It's the only piece of guard rail on the highway for 13 miles. It's just open ground between the opposing lanes for 12 and a half of those miles. If the guard rail hadn't been there....
I thought about the location of the accident. The guard rail he hit was to protect a creek. He ran through about 20 feet of it before the car came to a stop. Another few feet and the rail gives way to a solid concrete bridge, with solid concrete rails and a large embankment running through the middle of the highway.
I thought about the car he was driving. If he had driven the old Camry I wonder if the only 2 airbags the car had would have even deployed. I don't think they would have survived in the Camry, especially if the TVs were still in the back.
I thought about his seat belt and his sunglasses When the car came to a stop, the driver's side door flew open, and if Matthew hadn't been wearing his seatbelt I am sure he would have been ejected. His sunglasses, when his Dad retrieved them from the car had tiny shards of glass embedded all over them. I am so glad that neither of them received the same treatment to their faces or eyes.
I thought about the people who called 911. They saw what was happening and called the police before it ever happened. God bless those people.
I thought about the logistics of the accident. What happened? We don't know. Neither of them remembers much. He remembers pulling her out of the car. She remembers him passing out in the ambulance. They thought they might be having some car trouble when they started back. He wasn't drinking, he wasn't high. He wasn't texting or talking on his phone. They were almost home. Broad daylight. He veered off to the left and straight into that guard rail. He never slowed. He hit it at 75 mph. Full on. No brakes.
I think about all the people out there who raised their voices in prayer on our behalf. I called my Auntie while I was sitting in the car at the accident scene and cried, or rather screamed out a request for her prayer. She in turn, called our church, and all of them began to pray. Our church isn't large, but it means something to me that all of them were willing to put down what they were doing to lift us up. Our pastor came out to see the kids, and pray with us. I am so thankful for those who come alongside us in our times of need and help us bear the burden. Katie didn't think twice when I asked her to run over and pick up Alyssa and keep her company until we returned. She went to the grocery store, helped Dad pick up a few things the next day. I was so thankful to have her there.
My brother in law dropped everything to come up to the hospital. He too, has my deepest thanks.
I thought about my son. It's going to be a long road ahead for him. He will not now be getting that car. He will be walking for a long, long time. Our insurance may decide to kick him off. He will be paying for things for a long time. There may be tickets in his future if he is found at fault, and I'm sure they won't be small ones. I hope that he keeps things in perspective as things pile on, and remembers that all of this is a small price to pay for their lives. I hope that when he does begin to drive again, he will always be a safe and cautious driver, remembering how very thin the line is between life and death when you are in a car hurtling down the road at 70 mph,
It plays in my mind like a slow motion movie. Over and over from beginning to end. The reel starts when he comes in the room in his blue checkered shirt. I see myself in bed, praying, knowing something was not right. I hear again, the phone ringing, and see the Mr. asleep in the chair. I see those TVs rolling across the yard, and that ring of red and blue lights, as we entered the arena of disaster, not knowing what we were going to find. I can't stop thinking about it. They came so close. So close to losing their lives. Yet by the grace and mercy of God they walked away.
Tomorrow the repercussions set in. Tomorrow they will be hurting more than today. Tomorrow the phone calls and paperwork will begin in earnest. There will be investigations, and questions, and statements given. Tomorrow their will be a trip to the shop where the car was towed, to retrieve all of our personal belongings. There will be calls to the doctors for follow up appointments, There will eventually be bills, lots and lots of big, big bills.
Strangely, I am at peace about all that. My priorities snapped back into place like a dislocated joint sliding back into the socket in one split second, as I ran down the stairs and out to the car on the way to the scene. I thank the Lord for his goodness. I thank him for watching over my kids, especially now that they are grown. I can't be the hands on Mom anymore, they have to get out there and live life, which involves risk. I have to be the advisory Mom. Friend Mom. Above all, praying Mom, always the praying Mom.
As Atticus Finch said, in To Kill a Mockingbird when speaking to Boo Radley, after he saved Scout and Jem's lives, So I say to the Lord. Thank you for my children.
I am one very blessed Mama, tonight.
When I see this pic I took of the guard rail the next morning, all I really have eyes for is that concrete bridge in the middle of the photo. And that very large embankment it spans.
No comments:
Post a Comment