|Moon Hollow Farms|
There is this one part of the story I never leave out because it lets those people who love him know he is going to be alright. It's the classic Phoenix rising from the ashes. Superman standing there once the dust settled.
When I tell his grandson I recognize the same robotic input and output of information and directions and confirmations used during the exchange with my Mom. Take in the facts and then figure out how to feel. And he won't just feel one way, there will be a series of emotions to take over the next few days.
"Your Pop, he's fine, but he had a wreck on his way home from work."
"They have him in the hospital because he's banged up, and Grammie talked to him on the phone while he was riding in the ambulance."
"And this is your Pop, baby. This is how you know he's still there. The truck was upside down under a U-Haul in the median of the interstate. The lady at the wrecker yard said the front driver's side tire was nearly in the passenger seat. None of the people there can believe anyone lived through it. Your Pop, though, he had somehow released the seatbelt, climbed out through the window from under the U-Haul and was standing in the debris when the ambulance got there. He was waiting on them with a fractured and dislocated hip, a busted knee and a broken tibia. Nobody told him he couldn't stand."
That's when I hear the first feeling from my son and everyone else I tell.
Today I am grateful to return to work. This last week has felt like a year.