We were stopped again. Half in the lane, half not.
Adrenaline coursed through my veins as I tried to look
around and take stock of the situation. I had to find my phone. We needed the
cops and probably ambulances. I wasn’t sure if everyone was okay. I looked for
it frantically as my Dad and I both asked if everyone was all right. My Mom and
I both said yes and he was out of the car like a shot.
“Oh shit!” came out of my mouth before I’d even thought it
completely. I know my Dad well enough to know that he was going to be
dangerously livid with whoever hit us and put us in danger. It will always be
his first instinct to protect us. Knowing this, seeing his face, the fury in it,
and the way he strode the distance between the two vehicles only proved me
right. I threw myself across the backseat and all the clutter, opened the door
only to realize I’d lost my shoes somewhere in the car during the crash. No
time to look. I was afraid of stepping on glass should there be any and causing
more problems, but I was prepared to walk over broken glass to keep my Dad from
killing this guy. He had no idea what was coming his way.
My Dad ripped open the man’s truck door, pointed at him, and
yelled a few choice words, which I approved of somewhere in the back of my
mind.
I screamed to my Dad from the door of our truck. I knew he didn’t
hear me over the roar in his ears or see anything but the red in his eyes.
“Daddy! Don’t!” I screamed, and – whether he heard me or not
– I saw his mind instantly start to operate normally again. He said a few more
words to the guy and strode back to us.
He moved the truck to the side of the road as two
construction workers sprinted to clear the path in the cones for us and check on
us.
All of this, every thought, every decision, every action
took place in under 90 seconds at most. My Mom called the cops and seemed a
little foggy and confused about it all. I just thought she was in a bit of
shock. I was talking to her as my Dad talked to the construction workers,
assessed the damage, and handled things with the cops once they arrived.
“Stay in the car,” he told us.
Of course, my Mom didn’t listen. She got out and walked to
see the damage. He told her to get back in the car and I saw her coming back to
get in. I was trying to straighten things up in the truck and find where
everything had landed. I looked up as my Mom started to pass my window. My Dad
and the two construction workers were standing just a couple steps away.
“Tony,” that’s all she said, quietly. Just his name. Then
her body loosened. Her knees buckled and all three men dove to catch her. She
seemed semi-conscious for about 2 seconds before her whole body went completely
limp and her eyes closed.
“Tina!” my Dad yelled as they lifted her into the truck.
“Tina!”
“Mom!”
“Tina! Wake up! Tina!”
I choked back sobs as I grabbed her head to steady her neck
in case it was hurt. I contorted my body to reach the button to lay her seat
back.
“Tina!”
I was fighting to stay in control, to help one of the
construction workers call for an ambulance, and the other and my dad to wake
her up.
To hear my Dad put so much love into one word – her name
tore me apart. I knew, as if I had ever doubted, how much he loved her and that
if anything were ever to happen to her his world would be wrecked – completely.
Through the fear of losing her, my mind registered what I
was seeing, processed and analyzed it in a way that I do, and all I could think
was, “Damn, to be loved like that.”
She came-to within two minutes or so. She put her hand on
her head immediately and asked what happened, then said she felt sick. I
grabbed the first thing I could think of and reach (Cooper’s food bowl, which I
dumped out), and thrust it in front of her face, grabbed her hair and let her
throw up.
All of this took about 3 minutes. Those 3 minutes changed my
life. To be honest, the less than 10 minutes all of this took changed my life,
but those last few – they put everything into perspective.
They were hands down the most terrifying moments of my life.
To see my mom go so limp, like the life had literally just been sucked right
out of her was horrifying. To hear my Dad, screaming her name with all the
terror and love in his soul, to see it in his face just ripped my heart to
pieces. I was terrified that my mom was going to die, that we were going to be
one of those stories where everyone is fine until they’re not and pass out and they
never wake up.
The minutes and hours after were spent contacting family and
friends, keeping them updated, giving medical personnel every piece of
information they needed and I had at my disposal.
I had to take care of my family. Nothing else mattered. All
the melodramas of my life, the sucker punch I’d been hit with earlier that
morning didn’t matter. What did
matter was my family. We were alive and okay. Bumped, bruised, sprained, and concussed,
but alive.
There are a handful of moments in our lives that change its
course. In an instant, this wreck most
certainly changed mine. It put into perspective all the little things I’d been
sweating lately and reminded me what really matters: family, love, and living
life to the fullest extent in the best I can. I cannot express to you the
countless ways in which this wreck has impacted my thoughts, my priorities, and
my life as a whole, but if I can tell you one – it is that I tell those I love
and care about exactly what they mean
to me, regardless of time, space, or circumstance because who knows what life
is going to hit us with next?
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