Yesterday was just one of those days. Drama after drama, fight after fight. At one point I sat in my car alone and screamed, in desperate hope of relieving some of the stress that had built up over the past week. I was drained. I had no fight left in me. It was just a bad day.
I wanted nothing more than to get home, curl up with my family and just be happy. And that is just what I did.... finally. At about 7:30.
Just as some of that frustration started to fade, a blow came. A crushing, fearful, sad, horrifying blow.
It unfolded almost in slow motion. At first you don't believe it can be true. You search for facts. Try desperately to pray, to will it away. But there was no taking it back. My sons friend had been struck and killed by a car. A 16 year old boy. Riding his bike with a friend to visit another. Just boys. Out enjoying their youth. Simple. Honest.
To watch the pain strike my son was awful. To know that nothing I said or did could take it back or even make it better. It's a helplessness that a mother never wants to feel.
No matter what drama I had to deal with. All the fight, builder drama, dealing with a potentially unethical agent, people who hurt and frustrate. It wasn't so bad after all. My family was home when I got there. My kids were in their beds when I went to wake them this morning. They are safe. They are healthy. And they are with me. We are together.
It wasn't such a bad day after all.
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