Our mortal children--especially when they gain their independence and begin to look with pity on their aging, fearful, superstitious parents--like Icarus, fly much too near the sun. The agony lies in seeing where they are flying, begging them to stop and think, and being humored with affectionate banter but no changing of direction.
This was brought home to me very vividly this week when my cousin went through what no parent should ever have to face...waiting up until 1:30 for a daughter who had gone out with some friends, promising to be home early; getting an unresponsive phone; finally calling the trauma center and being told accident victims were there; finding their daughter badly wounded, bleeding, in pain...but at least alive; and then learning what had happened.
She hadn't known the driver before that night. From the back seat of the vehicle she begged him to slow down, but he sped to 75 miles an hour on an isolated dirt road, then hit an embankment. The police report shows that the car was airborne for 60 feet then turned end over end six times before it came to rest. The driver was injured badly. She was conscious but in a lot of pain. Fortunately, the third rider was ejected and uninjured. He called 911, but it took the authorities a long time to find the accident site. They finally were able to trace the cell phone call. The injured young lady, Ren, tried to call home, but her phone died. As she was being transported by helicopter, and in the trauma center, she asked people to get in touch with her parents and her twin sister, who would be worried. Nobody did. They had to come find her--on a table, broken and bleeding.
So there they all sit in the trauma unit. Broken jaw, missing teeth, injured face, torn spleen, broken vertebra, broken ribs, swollen body, lots of pain. Dad can't fix it this time. Mom can't smile and kiss it away. And all the loving in the world can't bring back that innocent little "aw, don't worry, Mom, I'll be ok" attitude she walked out of the house with.
The hardest lessons are those that cost.
That's why moms worry.
2 comments:
Amen!
Mommies have vivid imaginations, too, and experience these things a thousand times before they actually happened.
I've also learned that the more you live, the more you watch other people going through what you hope will never be your own destiny- watching your child hurt.
You are right, there is a reason for our worry. It's been two weeks since the accident, and I still weep.
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