ANOTHER Accident!

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Well, now all three of our adult children have been in major accidents. Frank is fine but he wrecked my Mustang and while we haven’t heard from them yet, we’re pretty sure it’s totaled.

We were in a restaurant in Georgia eating lunch on Tuesday afternoon when my phone rang. Frank said, “Mom, I’ve been in a wreck. I’m on a dirt road. I don’t know where I am.”

With my insides clenching, I said, “Are you okay? Is your head hurt?”

He said, “No, I’m fine.”

I could tell he was walking to try to figure out where he was. I told him to hang up, call 9-1-1, tell them he was in an accident on a dirt road and that he didn’t know where he was. I said, “They will find you.”

What I forgot to tell him in my panic was to STAY PUT. We didn’t hear from him for another half hour and all during that time I had nightmare images of him having a head injury and wandering into the woods. I finally couldn’t take it anymore and I called Zach (who was less than 30 minute away from that part of town) and told him to call 9-1-1, explain the situation, and tell them he’s the victim’s brother. I said, “They should be able to hook you up with the responders.”

Zach called back right away and that did indeed work. They confirmed they’d receive the call and that rescue personnel knew where he was and that they were en route.

During this time, we’d all moved to an empty room in the restaurant, where it was quiet, and explained to a waitress what was going on. They were very kind to us (i.e. didn’t ask us to leave!).

Turns out Frank slid on a gravel road, overcompensated, and the car flipped 1 1/2 times, landing upright on its side. The police officer said God must have been in the passenger seat because Frank walked away with a couple of scratches and a sore shoulder. If Frank had not been driving with the top down, he’d have been trapped in the car and Lord knows how long it would have been before someone drove by.

The paramedics checked him out and said he was fine but I had Zach take him to the E.R. just in case for my own peace of mind. Zach texted me a photo of Frank’s discharge papers and only then did I relax a bit.

I still don’t know exactly how the accident happened but I can imagine. I blame myself for letting a 19-year-old boy drive a candy apple red sports car. That was pretty stupid of me. You can bet the replacement car we get will be old, boxy, ugly and SLOW!

Even though Frank has been cleared by paramedics AND the E.R., we left Georgia immediately to head back to Florida. I need to count my baby’s fingers and toes to make sure he really is okay.

This week’s Masonism, said just before Halloween:

“Hey, Mom! Die rhymes with eye!”

Hugs to all,
Angela

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