An instant

My daughter and I have it pretty good, all things considered. I fuss over her and she rolls her eyes or gives me the "Mooooooom!" with an exasperated swat, but we usually smile and know... it's not too bad between us. She is convinced I'm running her life and I'm pretty sure she's right. We've had a tough go of it lately with boys and school and ... the life and drama of a teen. I can hear you sighing and nodding. But today? It wasn't fun. It wasn't cute.

My daughter and I went for a run (she is training for her swim team and I am just out there) and took a different route this morning. We were on our way back, having a small stretch of a "busier" road before ducking back into our usual more comfortable neighborhood.

The woman in the silver car didn't stop at the side street before turning left, never even looked. She didn't see the other car until she was at his passenger door. The black car, on the main road, juked to get out of the way but was unable. She nailed him good.  There was that sound; you know? The one where metal crunches and rattles the fillings in your teeth? Fiberglass pops and cracks and gives you that rush of an itch/tingle that makes you shudder? Well, she hit him so hard she spun him. As he came around, trying to regain, he overcompensated and headed right for us. Me and my daughter.

 I saw it coming and began to run to get out of its path. I was calling her. "C'mon Maddie." I yelled, glancing over my shoulder thinking she would be right there. That's where she WAS. Right there. Right beside me,  but now she wasn't.  My daughter froze. She was just watching it as if it were a tv show. I saw this car sliding toward us; a screaming hulk of stinky rubber and leaking fluids. I turned to grab her, yelling louder "MADDIE". She tripped and fell. The car kept coming. I ran back to her, picked her up and dragged/carried her. "HURRY MADDIE! WE'VE GOTTA MOOOOVE!"

I can tell you that I have never been so frightened for my baby girl. I don't want to ever feel that way again. There was a tightness in my gut and a panic that just consumed me. I know what I did, I carried my daughter out of the way. But I don't remember doing it and when I DO try to recall, I get foggy and want to cry or throw up.  I saw the black car and can tell you everything about it. What it looked like, that there was a shiny silver grill that looked like an angry mouth. The hood was a little sun faded with a crease down the length and the driver was young.  I think he wanted to scream when he saw us; really saw us. I felt small in front of that car; small and frail.  I think I've been through a box of tissues just writing this. We couldn't stop holding each other.

"I'm sorry Honey. I didn't mean to hurt you. I thought you were with me. Right there with me."

"Mom. I froze. I just waited for it to move away. I couldn't move Mom. It was so fast and slow at the same time."

More tears. Then and now.

The black car stopped and he got out. A kid. "Holy shit! Are you okay? She never stopped! She never fucking stopped. Oh my GOD Are you all right?"

I assured him we were. We all waited for the police. We spoke and then my daughter and I walked home. No great pace, no try outs or waistlines to worry about; just holding hands. I cried terrified relieved tears. She hugged me as tight as she could and told me she was okay. When we got home, she went to her room and quietly closed the door.

But I keep checking on her. My mind has tried to repaint it: a broken little girl distorted, twisted under the weight and speed of the car.  My ears strain to hear the slam of her body against the metal; angry mouth~ if I close my eyes I am forced to see what could have been. I don't like that one bit. I reach for her and brush her hair away. She doesn't pull back or roll her eyes. She smiles softly and lets me. I know in a few days we will be back to our roles of teen vs. mom but for now? I need this. I need her to be my baby and I think she wants to.

Hug them. Tell them you love them. It will only take an instant.