The Accident

Things are moving pretty fast here at Shepard Center, and it's only day one.  This may be a good time to go back and write of the night of the accident.  This way we can try and close that chapter of this journey, and focus on what's to come.  And if I don't do it now, I will fall behind in writing when Kyle goes into more demanding rehab.

We are still looking for that good that can come out of this.  I don't know how many kids are reading Greg's and my journals, but if there are not many, then I hope the parents, our community, our teachers, our churches,our schools, will still keep the conversation alive with them.  It really touched me when one friend said that they sit down as a family every day to read our journals.

So here goes....

That night, as we neared the accident site, we saw a line of cars just waiting.  You see, they couldn't get through.  Ahead, were those familiar blue lights flashing away.  We pulled up behind that last car, jumped out, and just ran.  I remember passing all those people just sitting there watching us run.  I remember passing the oh so familiar K-9 Unit.  And then we reached the site.

So many medics, so many flashing lights, the police officers.  Greg had run faster than me, so I could not find him.  I looked down the embankment, and just kept asking everyone who was looking at me,

"Where is he?  Where is he?  Where is he?"

I must have asked it a million times, but no one would answer me, just these looks.  I was terrified.  Then I looked over to the right, and it was a sight I wish I had never seen.  It was Kyle's car just seemingly swallowed by the trees.

Words can't describe the feeling.

"Where is he? Where is he?"  is all I could keep yelling, but still no answers, just looks.  And then, there was Greg, running to me, saying  "He's been medevaced to Fairfax, come on, we have to go."

And that's it.  Nothing more was ever said.
 
It's been a long time since I really prayed.  I haven't been to church in a long time.  But on that long drive to the hospital, I prayed over and over and over to please just let him be alive when we got there.

"Please be alive, please be alive.  God please let him be alive."

That was my chant the whole way there, while Greg drove in silence.

That "still not knowing" as we waited in the lobby for someone to come get us, had me unable to breathe.  Greg was pacing up and down the hall.  I will always remember that one kind person who got up out of her seat to console me.  She spoke so softly and kindly to try and get me breathing normally.  I will forever remember her.  I have already payed it forward.  And so has Greg, many times over in that Trauma ICU.

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