It's the call every parent fears. The one that leaves you breathless and your heart pounding. Last night I was waiting for Logan to get home from work and was beginning to wonder where he was. Assuming he was driving slower because it was a dark rainy night, I didn't worry too much - until the phone rang.
I answered to hear, "Who am I speaking to?"
At first I wondered what kind of whack job was calling and fought the urge to answer back "who am I speaking to?". Instead I replied giving the caller my name. Then a miriad of emotions and thoughts swept over me as he informed me that he was with the local police and that my son had been involved in an accident. My anxiety grew as he seemed reluctant to tell me if my son was OK or not and went on to explain how the accident occured - he was driving along a somewhat deserted stretch of road when a dear ran out in front of him and he swerved to avoid hitting it. He ran off the road and hit the bushes and trees instead. I was still waiting to hear if my son was OK when the officer asked which hospital we wanted him transported to.
EVENTUALLY, he assured me that Logan was OK, was only complaining of some neck pain but that the squad would board him up and take him to the ER to be safe.
Needless to say Brain, Cody and I rushed to get our stuff and get out the door as soon as humanly possible. The site of the accident is only 3 min. from our house so we made it there just as the life squad was pulling away. We talked to the officer for a few short minutes and then headed to the ER to meet up with Logan.
He is fine. Just a mild case of whiplash, a night of missed sleep, and a day of missed school. It could have been much worse. He even managed to avoid being cut by the flying glass. The passenger side of his car was hit the worst with a tree ending up in the passenger's seat and broken glass all over the car.
Today, knowing that Logan is fine and that the car is fully insured I am resting much easier. But it does make me wonder about something .... I wonder why it is that people are reluctant to stop and help someone who's been in an accident.
Last night just after Logan crashed his car another car drove by. Logan's car was completely off the road and obviously crashed into trees and bushes. No one could have assumed that he was faking an accident as a ploy to rob them. But the car, rather than stopping as Logan waved for help, continued to drive. It then turned around in a church parking lot and drove back past Logan. Logan again waved for help but the car drove off, not even stopping to ask if he was OK. Logan fished around his wrecked car and found his cell phone to call 911 himself.
It just makes me wonder if we've grown so fearful or indifferent that we refuse to stop to help someone in need? Thankfully my son is OK, but he could have been criticially injured and the least that someone could have done is call 911 for him. Driving off carelessly just seems ... rude.