I was thirteen in eighth grade. That sure seems young. I guess it's because my birthday was in August, so I was always one of the youngest kids in my grade. If I had been born a month later I would have started school the following year and been one of the oldest. I never really thought about it before, but perhaps that explains why I always felt so naive and juvenile compared to the other, more sophisticated kids in my class. Interesting.
Anyway, I didn't really enjoy eighth grade much more than seventh. I wasn't afraid of getting lost on campus anymore, but I still worried about drugs and bad people. Then in April I found something even worse to worry about.
Seventh hour had just ended, and I was gathering up my books, getting ready to walk home, when mom walked into my classroom. She had come to pick me up, and I could tell by the look on her ace that something was really wrong.
"Grandma Johnson has been in a bad car accident," she told me as we walked down the hall leading to the front street. "She's in the hospital, and I need you to watch the kids so I can go be with her."
I didn't even want to ask how bad grandma was; from the ashen color of mom's face I could guess; but I had to know. "Is she going to be OK?" I whispered.
"We don't know," mom answered slowly. There were tears in her voice, but outwardly she was calm. That was one of the things I admired most about my mother. She might break down after the emergency was over, but when something bad happened she was like a rock. Cool, calm, clear thinking, she would take over and do what needed to be done without hysterics. It made my world secure and took away the fright. If mom could handle it, so could I.
That was one of the longest afternoons and evenings of my life. Dad came home and went to the hospital to be with mom and the rest of her family. I took care of the little kids, got something for us to eat for dinner, and waited for the phone to ring.
Late that evening mom and dad came home, exhausted, worried, but still calm. Grandma had been in surgery all afternoon. The accident had been bad, the car smashed beyond all recognition. Grandma had been riding with a friend. Grandma's friend had pulled out to make a left turn without seeing the car coming down the street. It slammed into the passenger side of the car, where grandma was sitting, doing close to 45 miles an hour. There was no way grandma could have escaped without multiple broken bones and internal injuries. She was, after all, 70 years old and no spring chicken. But so far she had surprised all the doctors and was still holding on. Now it was just going to be a waiting game to see if she made it through the night.
Things were still the same the following morning and grandma held on during the coming days. No one could believe it, especially not the doctors, but little by little grandma recovered. Each day mother would wait for me to come home from school, then go down to see grandma in the hospital. At first I babysat, but when grandma was moved to a regular room I was able to go with mom. It helped to see grandma and knew that she was getting better, but the fear didn't go away. I had grown up, in a way, but I was still too young to handle my new wisdom.
In a matter of minutes I had discovered that life is fragile. No matter how secure and settled it feels, life is always just a heart beat away from dramatic change, and there's nothing any of us can do about it. I knew that now, and it scared me to death. Every time mom left to go somewhere I wondered if she would come home. I hated it when she and dad both went someplace at night. I was so afraid I would never see them again. For months I struggled with irrational fear, making it hard for mother to do any of the things she needed to do because I hung on her and begged her not to leave. She was awful patient with me, but it must have driven her crazy.
Eventually enough time passed without anyone dying and I grew out of that fear, but the wisdom remained. I forget sometimes, but whenever I hear about someone having an accident I am reminded just how tentative a grasp on life we really have, and how our whole world can change in an instant. When I remember it makes me stop and take time to appreciate where I am right now, and to be grateful for time to love, laugh, and enjoy my family and friends.
No comments:
Post a Comment