This one’s for the kids

Which, if one or more of our parents is still alive, is all of us.

How many times do kids of any age say to parents: Stop worrying! Don’t worry so much! Stop freaking out!

Well, they (we) are right about that, yes, but here’s a transcript of a conversation that just might lead The Kids to have a bit more empathy.

When: Early Saturday evening.

Where: Me, in a car, on I-20, somewhere between Anniston and Birmingham. 16-year old son, M, at home in Birmingham, after having flown back from Charleston on Thursday night, done whatever on Friday, and played in a Piano Thing on Saturday early afternoon.

Phone “rings” – buzzes whatever. It’s M. He’s breathless.

After a very brief preliminary saying he probably won’t be home when I arrive he continues, still breathing heavily, which means there were little pauses between each of his declarations. All the more time to ruminate, my dear. The exact transcript of my thoughts is provided in italics.

M: R (friend) and I are at Railroad Park. And just to tell you, on the way here –

The car started making a weird sound. The brakes went out.

….there was this huge…

18-wheeler. Pick-up truck. Wreck right in front of me…

…storm that came up, and…

I rear-ended the person in front of me. The person behind me rear-ended me….

…it was so super heavy and hard that…

I ran off the road. I lost control of the car. The car flooded and stalled.

…I had to pull over…

And another car slammed into me. Another car sideswiped me.

…there were trees and branches coming down..

And one fell on the car….

..It was even hailing…

And now there’s a crack in the windshield. The hood’s all dented. There’s dents in the roof…

But then it passed, the sun came out super bright. It was so weird.

Me: And…you’re okay?

M: Sure!

Me: The car’s okay?

M: (A little insulted, probably) Of course! See you later…

I am not kidding. Not exaggerating.

Not one little bit.

For almost forty years, that’s been the inside of my brain. That’s a long time….

You feel me, parents?