#SOL14 - Growing Pains
I'm sitting on the couch, listening to the Husband talk about the shelves he just built in the garage. My phone buzzes; I look down to see that my oldest son has texted me.
It's the weekend, when he typically hermits himself away with his friends, so I'm surprised.
"Just a sec," I tell the Husband, holding my phone up to show him I have a text.
I slide my finger across the screen and tap open the text. As I read, my chest tightens. The Husband is still talking. I shake my head at him.
"No, wait" I say, my eyes fixating on my phone.
He's been in a car accident. The other guy was on a motorcycle. No helmet.
The images that cloud my brain are ugly.
The texts continue. I'm wishing he had called instead.
It wasn't his fault; the guy ran into him while trying to pass him. He's fine, just shaken up. The other guy was bleeding from the back of his head, but it wasn't a serious injury.
He says it all happened more than thirty minutes ago. He was just texting to let me know, but he took care of everything himself.
We exchange a few more texts, and I let him go, knowing we'll talk later.
The ugly images clear a little, but not by much. This is an unwelcome reminder that my little boys are out roaming the world without me now, that I can't fix everything anymore -- that ever thinking I could fix it all was a silly ruse I played on myself.
But it is also a welcome reminder. They don't need me to fix it all, and that's a good thing.