Small World After All

In my archives-digging this week I found one of my heart’s desires. As everyone knows, MySpace, where I originally blogged is defunct, and Facebook no longer supports a platform for blogs, which they once called “Notes.” A little over a year ago, while I was recovering from surgery and doped up and my defenses were down, I was brutally hacked on Facebook and lost access to fourteen years of my life and pictures and memories. And I lost a lot of what I considered to be important writing. I missed those things the most.

In my archeological dig for an empty binder yesterday, I discovered a binder I didn’t recognize. My mother-in-law, may she rest in peace- had copied my blogs and saved them in a flowered binder for herself. When she was packing her house she set it aside and it found its way back to me.

What follows is one I thought of many times over the last years. There will be more to come in hopes that this platform will stay and they won’t be lost to me again.

The last line is still entirely true. Enjoy.

Small World After All

My son decided to go out and play a round of disc golf in Flagstaff the other day.

On his way to the course in the forest, he was walking down a hill and was passed by

Another young man going the same direction on a skateboard. Top speed.

The skateboarder reached the bottom of the hill and hit a drainage dip in the intersection. He went cartwheel-flying through the intersection- bounced twice- and finally landed midway out in a parking lot on the other side. By the time my son caught up to where he was, the young man was seizing and vomiting. Someone else had called 911, so Michael knelt down beside him and tried to hold him still to avoid further injuries until help could arrive. When the paramedics arrived, he gave his account of what had happened and watched as they loaded the stretcher into the ambulance.

When Michael called me later, he was still pretty shaken by what he had seen, and after he told me the story, so was I. It was a mother’s nightmare.

One minute you’re sailing down a hill feeling the exhilaration of youth and strength and speed, and the next…

Oh, God, the next.

Michael hadn’t learned the other boy’s name, but he said someone had arrived a few minutes later who was meeting the kid and was able to tell the EMT’s who he was. He said he looked to be a few years older than Michael is himself.

All I could think about was that poor boy’s mother when she answered the phone. I thought about it for days. I arrow-prayed repeatedly, not knowing where the target was, just hoping I could hit the bulls-eye somehow.

Yesterday, my husband was running late for work and asked me to drop him off on my way to school. That required leaving about thirty minutes earlier than usual for me and since I had volunteered to chaperone the eighth grade dance that afternoon, I wasn’t too keen on the idea of more extra time in school that day. On a whim I stopped by my friend Lisa’s house which is between Mike’s work and school. It was about 6:30 am, but I figured we’re old ladies and get up pretty early. I took coffee. I thought we might grab a quick chat and postpone my work day a bit.

I hadn’t seen Lisa in a couple of months, but she was up- although the house was echo-ey and furniture-less because she is having it tiled. We sat giggling  on her bed like a couple of silly teenagers- it was the only place to sit- and she started giving me the rundown of her own crazy week.

“…and then,” she said, “on Tuesday we got a call from Flagstaff that my nephew was in a—”

I knew before the sentence was out of her mouth. I may have said it with her.

“—terrible skateboarding accident—”

I finished the story for her and we stared -eyes welling- at each other in amazement.

Steven is 23. He had just returned from his second tour in Iraq and registered for college in Flag. He was going to play a round of disc golf with a friend. He was in a coma for a couple of days, but regained consciousness and is speaking now. Lisa flew up to Flag with her aunt that same day.

He’s going to be okay.

He passed my kid on his way down the hill… and my kid held him until the paramedics arrived.

Oh, Lord. It still makes me cry

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