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May 15, 2008

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I think these things are always harder on the parents than on the kids. They brush it off and move on, while we relive over and over in our heads what could have happened. And they wonder why we're so tense...

It's SO true! You know what he said this week? He said if he had to do it all over again he'd do it! WHAT?????!!!! Hey, he was happy that all the girls in school heaped adulation on him, he was happy that he ended up with some insurance money in his coffers (something we'd not intended but that came out of petitioning for medical expenses from the driver's insurance company), and ultimately, despite his ankle being misdiagnosed as sprained (and him being told to "challenge his injury" which he did in spades, including running a 5K on it, barefoot) but actually being broken, he's not worse for the wear and tear.
Me, on the other hand? Chalk up yet more gray hair (thank goodness for blond in a bottle) and yet a deeper paranoia than I'd had before...

Oh, Lord. How guilty do I feel for not even bothering to get out of bed to wish my 16-year old daughter a good day before she left for school?

(By the way, I'll bet I know EXACTLY which four-lane highway you're talking about.)

Glad your story had a happy ending -- and I like his taste in music!

Kalynne--hers was right on 29, at the entrance to Forest Lakes. Of course the others were on or near 29--one just by the mall, one a little further down the road, but of course both major intersections.
And I do now make certain I give everyone a kiss and tell them I love them in the morning. I'm paranoid that way...

This makes my heart stop beating when I read these stories.
My son rides a bike to school and my daughter walks with friends, it's about a mile and a half journey one way. Every morning I kiss them goodbye and tell them that I love them and every morning I worry about the journey. The alternative is driving them myself, but that's not going to teach them anything so I have to let them go it alone.
Great post Jenny and I'm so glad your son is okay :o)

Jenny,
As tragic as this is, your writing and telling of it is beautiful.

I also ritually tell everyone that leaves my home "Be careful". Sometimes my husband and sons hear that 15 times in a day. I'm just afraid that one time, I won't say it.

Teenagers just DONT get it, later when he is older you can read him that post and hopefully he will understand when HE has kids

I've gotten that call. My son was nine when he was in an accident. All was well, thank goodness. My husband had an accident at work and called me after the ER visit to say, "I'm okay, but..." and this was only one week after my father died! I didn't have a soundtrack for either one, thank goodness. The memories are strong enough as it is.

I'm one of those parents who received that call, and the worst happened, It's been a little over two years since I lost my daughter. The soundtrack of her life plays in my head all the time, some times it's a comfort, and sometimes it's unbearable.

Thanks Penelope. It is SO hard to let go and let them become thoroughly independent.
And thanks Ree, so sweet of you to say. I do worry I impose my paranoia-ism on them LOL
Insane Mama, you are so right. I think it's when the kids come that we all realize what we put our parents through.
Daisy, so glad that all was ok with both accidents.

Oh, Jill, reading your post just now took my breath away. I haven't got words to say how it pains me that you lost your girl. We all seek reasons and understanding and the awful thing of it is there is no rhyme or reason to it. I wish you peace in between the heartache.

My younger brother was hit by a car when he was five, and my Dad actually witnessed it...he still talks about it all the time, and just recently said he hasn't even been able to write about it. I can't even imagine how scary that must be...

Forever and a day, the verdict of the OJSimpson "Trial" will signify the spent in and out of Children's of Seattle where my baby was diagnosed with a disease that's uniformly fatal(doncha love doctalk?).

No soundtrack just endless days of the Ito dancers on Leno and endless reports on the trial of the century.

I was blessed. I got to bring my 7 month old home and take care of him with help from hospice and some pediatric nurses, until he died in my arms at the age of 10 months, 11 days. I said I love you and good bye every minute of those 3 months.
Jill I am sorry for your loss!

Oh wow, Jenny. What a sad story about that young girl. How on earth do we protect them?

Great post.

Oh Janice, I'm so sorry for your deep loss. Thank goodness you did have a chance for goodbyes, for what little comfort that is.
Jess, you know the weird thing is after my son got hit people were crawling out of the woodwork telling us their "hit by car" stories. Guess it's pretty common? D, if only we knew...

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