I hate those phone calls, you know, the ones that start with “he’s ok, he really is but..” especially when the subject of that phone call is one of your children.
Friday afternoon the KoD and I were out running a couple of last minute errands and my BB showed a message from my ex asking me if I had a minute to talk. I emailed back that I would be home in 15 minutes, was everything ok? He emailed back that he needed to talk to me about Squiggy. My heart sank. What was going on??
We hustled home as fast as we could and I called my ex. “He’s ok, he really is” he said. “He was running for the bus…” I told him that I cannot hear any more. I had that awful feeling in the pit of my stomach. Once you know something you cannot un-know it and my heart had already started to hurt. Basically, a bunch of boys had left school and the bus was at their stop. They were waiting to cross the street to get to it, and Squiggy (without his glasses) decided it was safe to cross the street. He got hit by a car. He picked himself up off the road and got on the bus as if nothing had happened. No calling the police, no calling an ambulance, no nothing.
He is bruised and was shaken (not any more though), my oldest son who saw the whole thing is also very shaken, but otherwise no serious damage done.
This is a kid who has had 4 concussions, 2 broken arms and a broken leg plus multiple strains and sprains. As a kid of 13 he didn’t really think about what could have happened to him. We all have heard those horror stories of kids getting killed crossing the street. God was watching over my Squiggy for sure, but what an awful scare for him, his brother and us, his parents.
Let’s not even talk about the irrational guilt I feel at having been so far away.