Friday, June 10, 2016

Not An Accident


My fifteen-year-old son loves his independence (as fifteen-year-olds the world over do). This summer he is taking Driver’s Ed, and it’s fun to see him coolly excited about this milestone in his life. We only live about a mile away from his high school, so he walks each day back and forth to school. Just like he has almost every school day for the last year.

But today that almost changed forever.



I can hardly speak or write of it because I’m still so angry, but the anger is being replaced with the terrifying realization that I cannot protect my son from idiots.

My kid is that typical eldest male child mix of uber responsibility and, well, teenage boy goofiness. But, he takes his safety very seriously. He’s the oldest child of two oldest children. One, a prior cop, and the other a minister. Safety and responsibility is pretty much part of our DNA around here.

And today, because of someone else’s thoughtlessness and irresponsibility we easily could have had the worst day of our lives. Well, mine and my husband’s, and all who love us. Our son’s life, however, would be gone. As in he could’ve died today. In an instant.

All because some random moron was driving and texting.

My son was crossing the crosswalk. Actually, first he looked for cars and seeing none, he then crossed in the crosswalk. Safety first, after all. He takes care not to be hit by a car. “Look both ways before you cross the street” remembrances are flashing through my mind as I hold the hand of a very eager four-year-old boy. He learned his lesson well and as far as I know always, always, always does this.

But, today, that didn’t matter. No matter how careful he was it didn’t keep him from being bumped in the crosswalk by a man in a car. A death machine on wheels, basically. Because his phone was, clearly, more important than my son’s beautiful life.

I will say, my son is fine. A little shaken up, but, he was not hurt. My heart, though, it’s still not quite ‘fine.’

The man looked up just in time and screeched to a halt and instead of plowing into my son, bumped him, as thousands of pounds of metal stopped on a dime.

I am a minister. I have been with parents whose child has died. There is no worse thing in this entire world.

Nothing compares to the shattering of one’s existence. I have been witness to such events, helpless in the waves of grief, numbness, and rage that pour forth from parents whose bright hopes for the future are destroyed.

I have already had two children die through miscarriage. That grief is hard enough to carry with me, woven as it is in the fabric of my life.

But this. This would have been a monstrosity of grief.

We often use such words as ‘a tragic accident’ when something horrific like this happens. Except, when will we loudly, and with clear legal authority, claim that texting and driving is a choice? There is no accident of picking up one’s phone to text ‘lol’ or some other such inane remark. It’s a terrible, awful, selfish, soul crushing choice. On the same par as drinking and driving, which as a society we generally condemn. And, we have created ways to try and protect ourselves from people who behave with such thoughtless regard for others.

Drunk driving is a crime. Punishable by fines, revoking of driving privileges, and often some kind of jail time. But, texting and driving, well, that’s a different thing entirely. Using our phone, whether it’s texting or talking, is probably something we’ve all been guilty of at one time or another. It takes one bad decision to change multiple lives forever. We all (well those who were alive before the 90’s) are all old enough to remember having to wait until we were not driving to talk to someone, or laugh at their joke, or ask that question…it’s not a hardship to put the phone away while driving.

Just now the first of two of Noah’s friends has arrived. To celebrate the joy and freedom of summertime. They are having a hot dog & s’mores bonfire in our backyard, sleeping outside in our tent, staying up way too late, indulging in too much sugar, and making entirely too much noise.

Thanks be to God.



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