~An impromptu play date (which is how they all should be) with Nana and the aunts and all the cousins, one of whom ran in to tell us in a tremulous, scared voice that something was wrong with Grant and we should call 911. He did the right thing. Good boy Max.
~Me and Dan and Molly's sheer athleticism that allowed us to be by his side in the road in less than 2.2 seconds. Especially Dan who had to leap impossibly high snow drifts and maybe a couple tall buildings. But most especially Mol who, upon arriving, did the only thing she knew to do which was to stretch out those sweet arms of hers and call upon the name of Jesus.
~Hearing Grant cry before I even got to him and knowing that as long as he was crying it meant he had breath and that he wasn't dead. Because that's what I thought he was. Sweetest sound ever.
~For Cheryl who got called first and, as Dr. Bruise's good wife, knew what instructions to give and was on her knees before we hung up. She probably stayed there until I called to tell her he was ok. Which is why I called her right away. So she could get up.
~For a family who just said, take him and go, we'll worry about the others and dinner and anything else that comes up, just both of you take him and go. And a Nana and Papa who stayed and fed all the kids the cauliflower mac and cheese I'd already made for dinner, then got them all spit shined and in their pjs and gave them upside down kisses until we came home and they could see for themselves that Grant was ok. And aunts and cousins who stayed too and ate the cauliflower mac and cheese I'd already made for dinner and prayed and waited until they knew he was ok before going home. You gotta love family.
~That I thought to look for Peter before I left. He was curled in a ball on his bed, crying, sure his brother was dead.
~For Lily O. who gathered all the children around her sweet 10 year old self while the adults were out in the road and started to pray.
~For compassionate nurses and doctors who didn't even look at us funny even though we couldn't stop crying in the ER. Even when he was obviously ok and we still couldn't stop crying. Even when he was happily watching Scooby Doo and plotting how to spring this great story on his friends at school and we still couldn't stop crying.
~For the DeVos' who built a totally rockin new hospital with valet parking and a slurpee machine. Ok, that actually deserves an exclamation mark, much as I hate them. Let's try that again. For the DeVos' who built a rockin new hospital with valet parking and a slurpee machine! A slurpee machine! Peter is right now plotting how he can get a visit in.
~For Land's End, who builds tough outerwear that helped protect this boy I love. That even though his down coat is in shreds, the boy inside isn't and that's all that matters.
~For Grant, asleep right now in the monster bed until 1 hour and 35 minutes from now when I have to wake him next and check his pupils and ask him to count to 10. For his curly lips (a dear friend actually prayed that his curly lips would be ok, knowing how special they are to me) and smattering of freckles and sense of humor and a million other things I couldn't have lived without that make him Grant and me his mom and that is precious and I'm so thankful.
~For Abba. For Elohim. For Johovah. For God. Who loves His children and protects them and who stood over that boy just before impact and said, not now. not like this. I have plans. He is marked.
Who has the power (don't you dare doubt that. don't you dare.) to slow down a speeding car so that it only hits a boy going 25 and not 50 and who can make it so that the boy gets up and walks into the house and says, whew that was scary. Who is orchestrating another chapter to this story in the man who hit Grant, who we are all praying for and who is coming next week to see for himself that he is ok and who we will tell about Jesus. For a God who spared my boy and, in doing so, preserved my life and we are not calling this a fluke or a stroke of luck or a lucky break. We are calling this a miracle because that's the business he's in and he conducted it in our street last night in the most loving and kindest of ways and so we're giving him all the credit. Just all the credit. Sweet Jesus.
So this is me. Heading off to snuggle my boy in the monster bed and to lay awake for another 1 hour and 6 minutes until I have to wake him up again. This is me being real. Thankful.