There is someone that I still can’t forgive. I feel that there is so much more they could have done, should be doing. They make me feel so insecure and insignificant sometimes. It’s me.
I haven’t really talked about this since the accident, but I do hold myself responsible. Now, the definition of an accident is an ‘unforeseen or unplanned event.’ The fact that I call what happened an accident tells me that rationally, I do understand that that’s what it was, an accident.
Then there’s the mom side of me. The side of me that instinctually knows that it is our job to keep our children safe. It is our job to wipe their noses and their behinds, to teach them and help them grow and to love them unconditionally. We try so hard to have control over whatever we can to make our children happy and secure.
I was numb in the moments after the car hit us and it was really hard to process everything. I remember screaming a lot. They loaded me into an ambulance and told me that I had to hold it together. Every fiber of my being was begging/praying/pleading for a positive outcome. When that didn’t happen, I fell apart and cried for the first time.
I think I was still in shock by the time they took me up to the emergency room for X Rays and I was just going through the motions. I remember being really tired, as the adrenaline had left my body and I was starting to actually begin to feel my injuries. They wheeled me out for X Rays and when I came back my sister was in a bit of a panic. The police were here to question me. I didn’t think anything of it until she said that she asked if they were going to charge me. Charge me? Charge me with what? I was so confused as to what this was all about.
The police came into my room and read me my Miranda Rights. I was stunned, panicked, terrified, confused. Were they blaming me? Had I done something wrong? Holy shit, was this my fault? None of those thoughts had even entered my mind until that moment. I was still stuck on the accident itself, I hadn’t really even thought about how it had happened. That moment was a turning point for me.
After I left the hospital it was days of ‘I should have, I could have, why didn’t I?’ I tortured myself with why am I alive and he’s gone? How did this happen? The police came over and reconstructed the accident and timed the car. There were 7-9 seconds from when the car started rolling to when it hit us. Think of how long 7-9 seconds lasts. For me, it changed my life forever.
The rational side of me kicked in and thought ok, that’s not really a long time to react to something. My instincts told me to run, so I ran. There was some relief in knowing just how little time there had been.
Then I started to think about those stories that you read. Mother’s who do crazy, heroic things to save their children’s lives because they reacted so quickly. Why didn’t that happen? Why couldn’t I save him? I’m in a support group with a family who’s daughter was shot 8 times to shield her son. It’s instinctual to protect our offspring, how did he fall out of my arms?
I will never know the answers to any of this and it’s something that I have to live with. Like I said, the rational side of me understands. But any mom reading this should know that when your child hurts, you feel somewhat responsible, because you are supposed to be the one protecting them.
I do not blame the police, they were just doing their job. Honestly, I can not say enough good things about the Worcester PD. I still would have gotten to this conclusion by myself.
I don’t torture myself with it, because most of the time I am able to look at the accident logically. The part that is illogical to me is why this ever happened. I miss my son and no ‘what ifs, should have’s or could have’s’ will bring him back.
2 thoughts on “Day 24 – Forgiveness”
I will spare you the details, but Phillip was nearly involved in an accident of sorts the other day. All I did was stand about ten feet away from him and scream at the top of my lungs. He was spared any harm, and then I finally ran over to him. I know I haven’t the slightest idea of your pain, but I will probably think about my reaction for the rest of my life. Being human is just that, human. Imperfect. The only thing close to perfection is our love for the little buggers, right?
Perfection and control are all an illusion. I’m glad that Phillip is ok, forgiveness is a bitch. I agree, the only thing perfect is our love. I will never second guess that.