Terror

This one is going to be difficult for me to put into words, so bear with me.

Up early this morning and excited to spend the morning in Seattle. Plans of visiting the Great Wall Shopping Mall and Ikea get us going. We are heading down the road looking for breakfast. We come to an intersection. We both see the black Ford bronco coming to a stop with the intention of turning left (across us). My husband is driving. He doesn't slow. There is no danger. We have the right of way. We have a green light and are driving straight.

Like a scene from a movie, suddenly there is a flash of black. White airbags and dust fly into our faces. We black out briefly and then the horribly buzzing sound in our ears. We open our eyes to more dust and begin coughing. Then the sounds of screaming start piercing through the chaos.

I immediately head to the back of the minivan to my children. My husband jumps out of the van to start assessing the scene. My youngest is screaming. His arms are reaching for me, and he's terrified. My oldest is scared. "What happened, Mama?" he cries. I hold them both and tell them it will be okay. They are okay.

We get them out of the vehicle and get to a safe place. The ambulance arrives then the fire truck and a police officer. The EMT's begin checking on the boys. We feel no pain. My oldest begins shaking, so they bring us a blanket, and he stops. He is still okay.

After determining the boys are in good condition, the fire fighter takes them to the truck to explore. Get their minds on something new. It is working.

The driver of the the bronco is horrified. He is young. He continues to apologize again and again and is horrified as to what he has done. I can never forget his face when I pull my boys from the van. It went white as a ghost.

The tow truck arrives and pulls our van to the parking lot. I move my boys to a safer area and give them bananas to eat. I begin taking our lives out of the minivan. Books, crayons, a soccer ball and basketball, our old diaper bag, car seats, papers, training wheels and the list goes on.

My husband's brother arrives to pick us. The parents of the driver arrive and more apologies. Insurance details are sorted. More apologies. The tow truck drags our minivan away, and we drive back to the hotel.

My husband has his brother take him to get the rental. The boys and I manage breakfast in the hotel and have a wonderful waitress who helps me get their plates and gives us lots of extra food for later. I cannot eat. The boys eat heaps.

My husband is back now and it's a trip to emergency to get us checked out. After several hours, it is determined that we mostly have sprains and bruising but time will tell. I have bruises in places I didn't even realize. I have no idea what might have hit me. Too much adrenaline. We get prescriptions and check out. We are okay. The boys are okay.

This day didn't end until midnight for us all, and it won't end in our minds for years to come.

I dream of the day I don't close my eyes and see puffs of white dust and the face of my 3 year old screaming for his life. I just need time.