Thanksgiving

Saturday, November 18, 2006

By Jim Van Wingerden

The phone rang at 12:30 am this morning.  I was still up, having just talked with my 16-year old on the cell phone, asking when he expected to be home (every parent of a teenager has been there).  He, his 9th grade brother and three other friends were on their way home from a pizza gathering after the high school play performance.

“Dad,” his voice sounded distressed.  “I’m at the corner of the East Beltline and Leonard.  Our car just got hit.  Can you please come right away?”

“Is everyone ok?  Is anybody injured?”

“No one’s hurt.  Just please come right away, ok?”

I was there in four minutes.  An ambulance, fire truck and the sheriff were already on the scene.

Both cars were totaled.  Thankfully, no one was seriously injured.  A few bruises and minor cuts.  Some very shaken up teenage boys.

“I’m sorry, Dad.  It wasn’t my fault.  The guy ran a red light.”

“I don’t care about the car—I’m just so thankful that everyone is ok.”

The next hour was bit of a blur.  Hours later, after all forms were signed, cars were towed away, everyone was where they had to be, our boys were asleep.  Mary and I were not. 

As I lay in bed recounting the events I kept thinking: “If the impact had happened two seconds earlier, we’d be in the hospital right now—or perhaps worse.”

I’m not usually one to play the “what if” and the “if only” games.  It’s not productive and it doesn’t change events.  But as I lay there, trying to fall asleep, I felt helpless as a parent.  Instinctively, I want to protect my children from such events.  Every parent (especially those of teenagers and college students) has been there too.

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