My son had a car accident on Sunday, February 19th around 3:30 A.M. He chose to FaceTime me with the news instead of calling or texting me, that way, I could “see” that he was okay. For that, I’m grateful because he knows that I would have freaked out. He wasn’t hurt, just ticked off because his car is down.
Being the mother that I am, I wasn’t quite satisfied that he was really okay, so that Monday, I made my way to Pine Bluff. He’s okay. We sat around and talked for a bit; I fussed because he was coming down with the flu, but had not taken anything for it. We hurried off to Walmart for broth, Nyquil, and orange juice, and shortly after that, I headed back to Louisiana. My baby is okay. No bumps, scars, scratches, or bruises. Y’all know I’ve been praising God mightily because it could have been much worse. He fell asleep behind the wheel…a whole block and a half from his apartment. He tore down a stop sign so there was pretty good damage to the car, but it’s being fixed. He had some pretty epic plans for spring break, but guess where that spring break money is going? Yeah…
It rained a fair distance of the way to Pine Bluff, but the ride back was bad. I grew up in Louisiana so driving in the rain is par for the course here. If it gets bad enough for me to have to pull over, it’s bad. My nerves were frayed by the time I made it to Camden because I had tried to push through, but I needed a break.
I had sat in the McDonalds parking lot for about 10 minutes when I decided to get back on the road even though the rain was still coming down rather hard. I had shifted into reverse when my phone dinged. I automatically knew it was an email, but when I saw who the sender was, I shifted back into park rather quickly. I knew he wasn’t writing just to be writing. I haven’t spoken to him since he was here for Mama’s funeral. I knew that he wasn’t writing regarding Will’s accident. We don’t talk. It was my ex-husband so I braced myself for whatever he had to say in that email. No sooner than I picked the phone up to read the first one, another one came from him. I figured I would get pissed so again, I braced myself.
The first email I opened had five attachments. It took me a flat two seconds to realize what he sent. I opened the next email right away and that one had four attachments. I can’t tell y’all (yet) what the attachments contained, but I will tell you that it’s been a long, LONG time coming. It was a HUGE burden that had plagued me since 2000, but finally, it was handled. It took him 17 years to fix what he messed up because of drugs, alcohol, and just being a plain, pompous clown. I was caught up in the chaos and I’ll tell y’all, I had no intention trying any harder than I had for two years straight to fix it. I knew that it was killing me just as much as it was him just because I was married to him, but the harder I tried to steer him in the right direction, the harder he yanked the other way.
As a paralegal, I knew that if I had walked out of that marriage without stipulating that HE fix that thing, I’d be on the hook forever. He did what he was supposed to do, but not before telling our son, in that email, to tell me that his new wife had helped him. Y’all, it is impossible for me to care any less about who did what than I do. He owed me. Nothing material can make up for the infidelity, the mental and emotional bashing, and those rapes. NOTHING.
Anyway, what he did allows me to push forward with some things I need to take care of. For that I’m grateful.
Life goes on, but you’re in charge of how it goes. Get on with what you’re here to do. Enjoy the time you’re not working — I mean thoroughly enjoy it! You don’t have nearly as much of it as you think.