From: Baby Dear A Little Golden Book By: Esther Wilkin 1962
Let your children know that you love them.
The phone rang last Thursday afternoon. I looked at my watch wondering why my 23 year old son would be calling me when he was supposed to be at work. I answered the call with some silly remark accusing him of skipping out of work early. The words froze in my throat as my son interrupted me, saying "Mom, I've been in a bad car accident. A drunk just hit me. I need your help".
A million thoughts simultaneously crashed through my head. Where exactly was he when he got hit? How long would it take me to get all the way from my house, across the freeway and to the accident? What would I find there? Was he hurt, bleeding? Was any one else hurt? Why was some idiot drunk and driving at 5:00 in the afternoon?
After confirming Andrew's location and hearing him say that he thought he was okay, my husband and I jumped in the car and were off. But as I sat quietly counting the minutes and inching through evening traffic one question kept nagging at me. When was the last time that I had told Andrew that I loved him? Sure he was 23, but what did that matter? When was the last time I had actually said it out loud and to him? Had I told him to have a good day when he left for work that morning? Had I even looked up from my newspaper?
I was instantly transported back to days of skinned knees, stitches from skateboarding accidents and the time Andrew fell and almost cut his nose off. He'd always been the kid that I was transporting to the ER for one play accident or another. He never cried, always trying to soldier through his injuries so he could be as tough as his big brother, Christopher. I missed having his sister, Stephanie, at my side. From the time Andrew was born, she was always taking care of her little brother; guess that's one of the reasons she became a nurse!
After a week of doctor's appointments, x-rays and lengthy discussions with insurance personnel and the police, Andrew is slowly recovering from severe whip lash and compressed vertebrae in his back. He is sore but in better shape than his car, which is totaled.
I learned something important that day. I don't want to ever question when the last time was that I told any of my kids that I loved them. It's funny how quickly they revert back to being a small child in your mind's eye when you think that they are in danger.
I know that there were angels working overtime on the day that Andrew was hit. Another inch this way or that the results would have been quite different. I have been sending up thank you's to Heaven since the accident along with calling my kids regularly to let them all know how much I really do love them all.
Don't waste a moment wondering if you should, no matter how old or young your kids are, let them know how much you love them! How much time does it take to share a smile, a hug or 3 little words? You just never know……..