The Accident

It’s Saturday night. I’m at home in my jammies watching Schitt’s Creek with two cats on me and thinking about how easily this night could have been completely different than it is.

After being home sick on Friday (the boys have been taking turns being sick for about two weeks and were nice enough to share with me), Saturday morning I woke up with a headache but overall felt better. I took some Excederin and stayed in bed while Erik ran into town to get breakfast. It was looking to be a normal, laid back weekend.

Around 10:15 or so, my phone rang. It was Erik.

“Hello?” I said.

“I was just in a really bad accident,” he said. I could tell from his voice everything was not all right.

“What?! Are you okay?! Where are you?!” He said he wasn’t sure if he was okay, and he tried explaining where he was but it wasn’t making very much sense. Cullen was hearing my end of the conversation and became panicked. I woke Harris up, told him what was going on and to stay with Cullen. I threw on my coat over my pajamas and hopped in our other car to go find Erik. He had been able to tell me if I drove like I was “going to the gas station” that I would find him.

I flew down the gravel road as fast as I safely could. When I took a right onto the highway, I could see flashing lights in the distance and knew that had to be where he was.

As I approached the scene, I saw our car.

Upside down.

On the side of the road.

Airbags showing through the windows.

But no Erik.

A sheriff’s truck was there and as I pulled up beside it, we both rolled our windows down at the same time.

“That’s my husband’s c…” Before I could finish, a person in the passenger’s seat who was previously not visible leaned forward. It was Erik. “That’s my husband!” I pulled over and immediately jumped out of the car to give him the longest and tightest hug possible.

What had happened? Erik was driving over a drainage ditch that had guard rails on each side of the highway. Because of the guard rails, a significant “bump” of ice and snow had accumulated but was not visible until very close. Because there was an oncoming car, Erik had to hit the snow instead of the other vehicle. That sent him into the guardrail and then into the air.

He was able to get his seatbelt off but he wasn’t able to get out the front door.

He climbed into the backseat—on the roof of the car—and made it out that door. A family driving by called 911 and let Erik sit in their car to stay warm until the sheriff arrived.

While they were getting our car loaded up to tow away, they actually closed that stretch of the highway and the Harwood Fire Department came out to plow it so the same thing wouldn’t happen to someone else.

The sheriff suggested Erik go to the emergency room to get checked out, so that’s where we went next and where we spent most of the rest of the day. Erik was very confused when we got there; he even gave the registration person the wrong birthday.

All of the tests came out perfectly. His head CT scan said his brain was “unremarkable” (what you want it to be when they scan it) but I promise I will give him crap about that forever.

While we were there, a level one trauma (the worst) came in and all I could think was that could have very easily been what I arrived to find Erik in. It could have been So. Much. Worse. Was I thrilled to spend over six hours in the ER in my pajamas with my un-showered and un-toothbrushed self? Not really…but that was infinitely better than many other scenarios that so easily could have resulted from the accident.

So tonight I’m going to chill and enjoy watching David Rose ask thrice for towels. Tomorrow I’ll make sure Erik takes all his happy pain pills and try to get everything ready for the upcoming week. Will I complain about having to clean up after my gross, dirty boys? Probably. But I’ll try to remember how lucky I am to have healthy, safe, dirty, gross boys.

I will be forever grateful to the Cass County Sheriff’s deputies, the Harwood Volunteer Fire Department, and the family who stopped to help (although I’ll probably never get to know who they are). You are all heroes.

You Can Make a Dream Come True

Most days my job fills my soul; I laugh until I cry and the hours between 8 and 4 disappear faster than a box of Little Debbies left on my kitchen counter.

Some days my job stabs my soul; I want to cry until I can fix all the ugliness in my students’ lives and it breaks me that I can’t.

One of these days happened last week. As I do just about every day, I got a new student who had just started as a patient in the Child and Adolescent Partial Hospitalization Program. Like all of my kids, all I knew about him when he walked in my classroom was his name and age.

He was one of those people that instantly captures a piece of you soul without even trying. His sweet, kind personality immediately swooped in and took hold of my heart.

As with all my new kiddos, I invited him to fill out his choice of getting-to-know-you sheets. This is what he wrote:

No family. No friends. I immediately wanted to go home and make him mashed potatoes and gravy. Instead, we found some math that was a good fit for him and we visited while he worked. When he finished his math, he asked if he could spell words using the magnets on the filing cabinet. Of course you can! He asked for spelling help, and when he was done he stepped to the side so I could read what he wrote:

This sweet boy, who doesn’t even have most of the people or things I take for granted, has a better outlook on life than I do many days.

I grumble about a messy house left in the wake of my boys. I complain that I’m tired and don’t want to do all these dishes or that pile of laundry. But those things are only present because of the family I get to come home to everyday. I’ve seen signs that say, “Bless this mess.” I need one that says, “Blessed by this mess.”

Looking forward, my goal is to reframe the lens through which I see “my messy house” and focus on the family I love so dearly. They may be dirty, sloppy boys, but they are MY dirty, sloppy boys. They make my dreams come true and I am beyond thankful for them everyday.

I’m still brainstorming a legitimate reason to explain how I can bring mashed potatoes and gravy to school tomorrow. Let me know if you have any ideas.