I almost witnessed my oldest son’s death last night.
Let me just say, just in case you weren’t already aware of this fact, this is NOT something a mother should ever experience.
But, thank God I was there.
I was dropping Rader off at basketball practice. We parked across the street from the gym. The street was busy and it was getting dark. Normally there is a cross walk where from the parking lot to the gym, but the city had repaved the roads this summer and apparently painting the crosswalk is way on their priority list. It won’t be after today.
So, we’re waiting for a break in traffic. A car stops for us and signals us across. We start walking–except for Ian who tears off in a run. I see a car coming on the other side because I’m tall enough and CAN see over the car. He doesn’t see it. Finally my mouth catches up to my brain and I yell IAN! and for the first time ever, he stopped. And the car stopped. Six inches from hitting my child.
That scene has played over and over in my mind since then. We had another talk about how to cross the street, etc. I think I was in so much shock that the gravity of the moment never caught up to me.
I don’t recommend this form of stress to anyone.