Always in my mind, the 5 words I never wanted to hear were, "There has been an accident." I heard them years ago when I lost my brother. And then I heard them yesterday. They held the same paralyzing fear yesterday as they did back in 1965. Only this time I heard them through my mother's ears and there were other words, motorcycle, son, ambulance. Each word was tearing me apart and I had to pull into a parking lot to make sense of them.
Lou, this is Carolyn and I was on my way to town and there has been an accident. Bret, Amanda, motorcycle, Cruiser, ......."I need to know which hospital you want him transported to. They will want to know." A million questions rushed through my mind, but I asked none. She had no answers, so it was not fair to ask. My first instinct was to race to Santa Fe Drive to the scene, but a cooler head prevailed. I would go to the hospital and wait. So I did. I left my car with the valet and went immediately to the ER. No ambulance yet.
I would call my minister. Phone book was in the car. So I called the church. Answering machine. In case of emergency call.....my pen was in the car. Why is it that we delude ourselves into believing we are organized right up until the moment when we need to lay our hands on information and we find we are like Babes in the woods. I knew I should call some one, but I did not know who. Oh, wait. He has sisters, I have kids! But what would I tell them? What did I know? Motorcycle, son, ambulance.
So, Lou Mercer, the woman with so many friends stood in an empty emergency room staring out a window all by herself, the loneliest woman in the world. And like so many mothers before me I turned to the one person who could and would listen. I had never faced anything like this with any of my children before, but yesterday I did and yesterday I remembered why I had spent my whole life clinging to this man. So I called on him, "Oh, God! I know I am always wanting something, but this time I really, really need you to do this for me. Make it right. Make this go away and if you choose not to do that then give me the strength to deal with what I must." I am sure there was a lot more said and I bet I made promises, but God knows me pretty good. We have been there before and while some of his greatest gifts were unanswered prayers, I knew in the depths of my being that he would answer this one.
It was orchestrated from the beginning when a friend came upon the accident and she chose to call me instead of letting the sheriff call, and she was allowed to call. Things always come easier when delivered by a friend. I want to thank her for doing me that favor. I will not use her last name, but she know who she is and she also knows that I loved her when she was my daughter in law and I love her today, because she is a beautiful person.
So, as you have guessed by now, little Bret is alright. He is alright because all the things that usually happened did not. The speed limit there where this happened is 50MPH but it was moving slow. Amanda saw a wreck ahead so she slowed down and changed lanes. Bret passed her and then he saw the accident so he cut in front of her and slowed. Some one ahead hit the brakes, Bret hit his brakes and Amanda hit hers. She hit the back of the bike which shot out from under Bret. All speeds were reduced or the boy on the bike would not be here today.
Later Bret was recounting the accident and he said " I seen Amanda coming behind me and I knew she was going to hit me, but I had to brake." I asked him, "Did you at that point in time wish you might have been a little nicer to her?" His answer was, "Oh, yeah!"
So today we are getting through the "what if " phase of this. Will he ride his bike again? Sure! Will he wear a helmet next time? No! I never wore one. It restricted my vision and my hearing. On long trips I guess they are all right. Will Amanda drive again. Sure! I hauled her to work today, but that is not going to happen again. Things happen. Life goes on. What will I do different? Keep a phone list in my purse or make sure all the important numbers are in my phone. But the most important number is burned in my brain and that is the hot line to Heaven. And the best part is that no matter where I am, it is still a local call!
Lou, this is Carolyn and I was on my way to town and there has been an accident. Bret, Amanda, motorcycle, Cruiser, ......."I need to know which hospital you want him transported to. They will want to know." A million questions rushed through my mind, but I asked none. She had no answers, so it was not fair to ask. My first instinct was to race to Santa Fe Drive to the scene, but a cooler head prevailed. I would go to the hospital and wait. So I did. I left my car with the valet and went immediately to the ER. No ambulance yet.
I would call my minister. Phone book was in the car. So I called the church. Answering machine. In case of emergency call.....my pen was in the car. Why is it that we delude ourselves into believing we are organized right up until the moment when we need to lay our hands on information and we find we are like Babes in the woods. I knew I should call some one, but I did not know who. Oh, wait. He has sisters, I have kids! But what would I tell them? What did I know? Motorcycle, son, ambulance.
So, Lou Mercer, the woman with so many friends stood in an empty emergency room staring out a window all by herself, the loneliest woman in the world. And like so many mothers before me I turned to the one person who could and would listen. I had never faced anything like this with any of my children before, but yesterday I did and yesterday I remembered why I had spent my whole life clinging to this man. So I called on him, "Oh, God! I know I am always wanting something, but this time I really, really need you to do this for me. Make it right. Make this go away and if you choose not to do that then give me the strength to deal with what I must." I am sure there was a lot more said and I bet I made promises, but God knows me pretty good. We have been there before and while some of his greatest gifts were unanswered prayers, I knew in the depths of my being that he would answer this one.
It was orchestrated from the beginning when a friend came upon the accident and she chose to call me instead of letting the sheriff call, and she was allowed to call. Things always come easier when delivered by a friend. I want to thank her for doing me that favor. I will not use her last name, but she know who she is and she also knows that I loved her when she was my daughter in law and I love her today, because she is a beautiful person.
So, as you have guessed by now, little Bret is alright. He is alright because all the things that usually happened did not. The speed limit there where this happened is 50MPH but it was moving slow. Amanda saw a wreck ahead so she slowed down and changed lanes. Bret passed her and then he saw the accident so he cut in front of her and slowed. Some one ahead hit the brakes, Bret hit his brakes and Amanda hit hers. She hit the back of the bike which shot out from under Bret. All speeds were reduced or the boy on the bike would not be here today.
Later Bret was recounting the accident and he said " I seen Amanda coming behind me and I knew she was going to hit me, but I had to brake." I asked him, "Did you at that point in time wish you might have been a little nicer to her?" His answer was, "Oh, yeah!"
So today we are getting through the "what if " phase of this. Will he ride his bike again? Sure! Will he wear a helmet next time? No! I never wore one. It restricted my vision and my hearing. On long trips I guess they are all right. Will Amanda drive again. Sure! I hauled her to work today, but that is not going to happen again. Things happen. Life goes on. What will I do different? Keep a phone list in my purse or make sure all the important numbers are in my phone. But the most important number is burned in my brain and that is the hot line to Heaven. And the best part is that no matter where I am, it is still a local call!
3 comments:
Sometimes it doesn't help to know the number. A number of years ago now an idiot smashed through the glass door of this house where I live, intent upon stealing things but oblivious to the fact that somebody in the little room on top of the house was still awake, or that I even lived here since I had just moved in.
I wasn't sure whether I had him cornered in the dark or not and I tried to quickly tell the woman he was robbing to call 911, when she couldn't remember the number (I am not making this up).
So I called 911, and they meticuloulsy and calmly gathered a lot of information, nearly giving me a heart attack in the process.
There should be a number that a person can call which automatically tells them, "ok we'll take care of that right away" and THEN gathers the information.
Well, Steven, the only one I know that even comes close to doing that is God. Have not ever had him ask why, who, where or any of that stuff. Oh, and his line is never busy!
Peace, Bro!
I also preferably have a higher calling,and then 911. all things are through GOD. stuff like this happens for a reason. To bring us closer to him and those calls are free.
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