A mother's worse nightmare is to have her child being late coming home and then receive a phone call from the police stating the child was in a car accident. That phone call in an instant changes everything--your outlook on life, what's important and how things are prioritized.
I'm a writer and I look for every opportunity to write. A quiet spot here, steal a few minutes there. After that phone call, my look changed for at least a little while. My daughter was home, bruised, but in one piece. The feeling of almost losing her was too much to take for granted that she was alive. One look at the car reiterated to me that I had almost lost her. She should have been more hurt by the look of it.
My own writing took a backseat last week as I spent every moment I could with her. The bruising and soreness lingers along with the feeling of protectiveness that has once again overtaken me. Yes, she is just about 18--within days now--but she will forever be that little girl that I adored and have grown to admire as she came into adulthood. She has a kind heart and a gentle soul. To lose something that precious is unthinkable.
So writing didn't happen last week and this week I'm starting slowly again to get into it, but suddenly it's okay to stop if the kids just need to talk or just need a hug. Writing I will always have, my kids I'm blessed to have and hope that blessing continues for many, many years.
I will never take another moment for granted. Always say I love you and give that hug. It might just be the last you give.