FYI I cried writing this post. A lot. I just wanted to give you ample warning in case that’s not what you’re up for today.
Last week you know I visited the pain clinic and I am so much more hopeful than I’ve been…well, since I realized I wasn’t getting better. I remember the moment I knew. There are certain moments in life that are so profoundly life changing. Moments where you know, life is forever changed. This led me to thinking . . . . the moment Ben was hit by a car. Life. Changing. I’ve told you I would tell you this story for a year and a half. I think I’m ready. I don’t want a bunch of sadness though. If you need to leave a comment maybe just type I understand, or Oh My! Or maybe we should all just let it out and have a good cry. I’ve been crying the entire time I’ve been writing this if that makes you feel better, lol!
We all walked to the race together. We were going on a family fun run, obviously I don’t run anymore, I brought our neighbor’s children as well because it was at the airport. We were going to see all the planes. Everyone was in a fantastic mood. Ben ran ahead of us but stopped at the post before the lights. As per the rules. We caught up to him and he was so bouncy and full of joy. He stopped and waited for us, as we got closer he was in runners stance, ready to leap. I wasn’t concerned. He was waiting, I also had it in my head that the road was closed to traffic. So he’s just hanging and the rest of us catch up. He turns, still in runners pose, giggling and happy. He looks back at me, smiles and then he jumps. I see a shadow, I leap and scream, ‘No!’ Scream it! It turns out the light changed and the walk sign popped up. He jumped because it said walk. She was looking 90 degrees the other direction, at the race commotion. The light changed but she didn’t see it. There is no delay between the light changing and the walk light coming on there. Light goes red, green light and walk sign go on. She was driving an SUV and she hit him. That’s my moment.
It was strangely quiet. Husband says that for him it was the opposite, so insanely loud. For 5 hours I thought my son was dying/dead/dying and it was quiet. Isn’t that funny?! It’s all this chaos swirling around and for me it was silent. I can see people running, I called 911, there was a lot of screaming. I think it was me. I can see people running. I can see the fire trucks, the ambulance takes sooo long. I can see all of it. I heard a friend ask me what I need. I said husband. I see the woman who hit him just once, she said, ‘Is he okay?’ I’m in quiet slow motion, she asked me, ‘Is he okay?’ I remember looking at her, she has brown curly hair, and I said ‘No, no he’s not okay.’ She never speaks to us again. Not a word. Not an I’m sorry, not a how are you, how is he, I’m sorry I crushed your world. I wasn’t mean. Part of me wishes I was. I assume she moved on with her life. But I wonder, did you fix the dent in the fender? Where you hit my son? That time you ran the yellow light, that time you were looking the other direction? I know this because I watched. Frozen in time, I see it. I’ve been to therapy and the most important thing is this is not the end of his story, it does not end here. And then I breath and try to stop crying. Let’s all practice that now.