Sober Anniversary

I must remember today with a sort of homage. Homage is always due to God. Always. There are times, however, when we see His worthiness more clearly because of some generosity or goodness specifically toward us.

A year ago today - at this time - I was going about a normal school day with my children. John W. had been at school and had a test to be completed at home. I was helping him. And then I had to leave. He was not done yet, but I had to move on to the regular errands of the day.

About an hour or so after I left the house John W. left too. A friend had asked him to help pick up his truck from the shop. On the way back to his friend's house, John W., who was driving a borrowed car seemed to disappear for a time. When discovered he was sitting, nearly incoherent, butted up against a tree in a mangled red sports car. He was stuck. Rescue workers labored for a long time to gain his freedom from the wreckage.

Meanwhile I sat, with increasing nervousness and agitation in a parking lot, 30 minutes from the accident scene. I knew I was closer than John - who was with John W. at the site not even 3 miles from our home - to whatever hospital they took him. I wanted to soar, to miraculously transfer my anxious person to the scene. But then I would be far from the hospital. And they were going to fly him by helicopter. I never could beat the helicopter to the hospital from the accident site. I sat. And sat. I prayed. I made key phone calls. My mind raced.

It was many hours later that we finally knew what John W.'s injuries were. I cried when I heard. His neck was broken. A rescue worker told us that he was really lucky to be alive. I knew better. I had - and have - this profound feeling that God was merciful because He wanted John W. to accomplish more with his life than up to that point. Gratitude washed over me in wave after solemn wave - and still does periodically.

Today I am remembering. I am deeply, unspeakably grateful. And still I mourn sometimes. I am so glad to still have him here. However, I grieve for what was lost that day. There was an innocence and youthfulness that left John W. with all the scattering car parts. The ability to wake up fresh for a new day -without pain - fleeted away too. For all of his physical life he will know what happened that day even though his mind cannot recall. It's okay. It has made and will continue to make him a better person. But sometimes maturity comes at a high price that isn't payed out in one lone installment. Sometimes the price is perpetual, like an ever existent loan payment.

I have been prayerful today. I am thanking God again and again. I think I always will. I met so many people over the last year who have lost children to the skirmishes of life on a sin laden planet. I have not yet joined their ranks. However, I stood at the door of their grief a year ago, wondering if I was soon to know what was beyond. Ignorance is bliss. Pure bliss.