Do you know how you would react in a crisis? I think most people, hand on heart, would like to think that they would be unflappable, keep a cool head, and take charge in a manner that others would admire, and in time emulate. In actual fact, there is no way of telling how your mind and body will cope, and one can only hope that somehow you can get through that moment in time, and eventually move forwards.
Our crisis happened just over three weeks ago, when I got the call that every Mother dreads – “There’s been an Accident”. At that moment, the everyday sounds surrounding me- arguing between Middle Son and Little Man over an xbox game, builders shouting to one another over a neighbours hedge, Muttley snoring gently at my feet -all of those faded, as if a mute button had been hit. Eldest Son had been involved in a boating accident, and although the others had been recovered, he had been reported missing.
The rest of the evening went by in an organised blur – I remember ordering the two youngest to get into the car, whilst throwing all the coats we owned into the boot, plus for some reason, an enormous bar of chocolate… I remember that Middle Son took over the Sat Nav as I set off shakily to God Knows Where in rapidly descending darkness, and he took the blame without tears as I made wrong turnings and sharply reprimanded him. I remember the sight of Eldest Son in hospital, pale, covered in blood soaked blankets, surrounded by strangers, yet determined not to cry, until he saw me and broke down. He had been rescued and revived by two members of the public to whom we will always be eternally grateful. His experience involved police, helicopter ambulances, plastic surgery and the Press – and yet Eldest Son emerged a hero, unscathed by trauma and with a fabulous scar.
The rest of the evening went by in an organised blur – I remember ordering the two youngest to get into the car, whilst throwing all the coats we owned into the boot, plus for some reason, an enormous bar of chocolate… I remember that Middle Son took over the Sat Nav as I set off shakily to God Knows Where in rapidly descending darkness, and he took the blame without tears as I made wrong turnings and sharply reprimanded him. I remember the sight of Eldest Son in hospital, pale, covered in blood soaked blankets, surrounded by strangers, yet determined not to cry, until he saw me and broke down. He had been rescued and revived by two members of the public to whom we will always be eternally grateful. His experience involved police, helicopter ambulances, plastic surgery and the Press – and yet Eldest Son emerged a hero, unscathed by trauma and with a fabulous scar.
Suffice to say that over the past few weeks our little family unit has been tested to the limit, and grown stronger because of it. During the first few days we kept checking on each other, not quite believing that we were all together. I barely slept, tears never far from my eyes, G wandered around in a daze. Well meaning friends and family simply sent texts, or cards. We couldn’t talk.
But life goes on. School days continued. Muttley still had to be walked, and three days after the accident Eldest Son accompanied me, looking tired from the 20-30 tablets that he had had daily, but taking a fresh enjoyment in his surroundings, and the playfulness of the dog. Little things become milestones in your life. Perhaps realizing that he was incapacitated in one arm, perhaps as a result of now being nearly 9 months old, Muttley for the first time started to bring the stick back to him once it was thrown. That walk was the first in which we used one stick from beginning to end – and it went into the car on the journey back as a little trophy.
No, you never can tell how you would react in a crisis – but I am enormously proud of my family for how they handled themselves… I guess in our own ways we have all grown up little over the past few weeks…
