Remembering to Breathe

I didn't rehearse what I would say or how I would react to the phone call about one of my girls being in a car accident. How can any parent plan for such a thing? I like to think that I patiently taught them to drive and helped them acquire the skills that would keep them safe on the roads...after all, they will always be my babies - completely intertwined in my heart and precious to me. I cannot imagine my life without any one of my girls in it. I think if that were to happen, my heart would stop beating. So yesterday, when that call came, I was not surprised that the world around me dissolved - the people, the floor under my feet.. all of it just gone - except for the sound of her voice, and suddenly everything seemed to be moving in slow motion.. including my heart. I remember her sobbing and screaming at the same time. I remember her choked off apology and the building hysteria in her voice as she pleaded, "Mom,I need help. I am so sorry."

And just then, I forgot to breathe.

Madison was only a few blocks away, on one of the busiest streets in town - in rush hour traffic. I could not get to her fast enough. I am certain it was only minutes, but I clearly remember thinking that I was either going to drive down the middle lane with my hazard lights on, or get out and start running. Why couldn't the cars in front of me move?? Oh yeah. There's an accident up there. My little girl is up there and she needs me.

Breathe....

It did not matter to me that it was raining and that I had dragged my husband out the door with me.. he was wearing a tank top and shorts, had no jacket and the only reason he even had shoes was because Carley shoved a pair of flip flops through the Durango window as I was backing out of the garage. Nothing mattered except getting to Madie, as quickly as possible.

When we arrived at the accident scene, the traffic stopped to let us run across the street from the gas station where I had parked. Could they see a mother's desperation in my eyes? I grabbed Madie and hugged her as soon as I saw her. I remember her pulling away at first, almost as if she was expecting anger instead of relief. The car was badly damaged and partially resting on the sidewalk. There was oil and antifreeze leaking onto the street. At least it was the car's blood on that street and not my daughter's. Even as I felt the crunch of glass underfoot, I couldn't fully comprehend the fact that the window was missing. She was hit with such tremendous force that we think her head was thrown into the driver's door window. I took a deep breath and carefully picked the shattered glass out of her hair and eyelashes while scanning her for other injuries. She had a seat belt burn on her neck, her upper arm was scratched and bleeding and her entire left arm was an angry shade of red. She was shaking terribly, but she was breathing.

As we waited for the police to arrive, I remember trying to get Madie to sit on a retaining wall along the sidewalk. She was clearly in shock and was not responding to directions. I had to be firm with her and I felt bad about it because I could see that she took it personally. She thought I was mad at her. We carried out the business of filling out the report, signing for a citation and making plans to tow the wreckage home. The wind was whipping a frenzy around us and the rain had picked up in earnest but I barely noticed. I was trying to sort through a mix of emotion and my mind began to wander to hectic thoughts of "What are we going to do now?" As the rain soaked me through the missing window, I was helpless to stop the tears of sorrow and relief from mixing with the cold rain as I piloted the wrecked car home, led on by my husband and hero...and a long length of yellow tow strap.

Now breathe...

Today, I woke up early to start the business of making calls to the insurance agency and figuring out a future plan. Madie hurts both physically and emotionally, but I tell her to be thankful that she hurts.. because it means she's alive. We had a close call yesterday. I wish I could rewind the day and make it all better for her, but hopefully I can help her learn from this accident so that she will be a better, safer driver in the future. As a mom, it is hard for me to accept that I cannot keep my girls safe 100% of the time. I have to come to terms with the fact that there is a limit to what I can teach them and after that, I have to be ok with letting them learn some hard lessons on their own. Today we are simply grateful. Cars can be replaced, daughters cannot. I know that from now on, every time they drive away, I will have to remind myself to breathe.