17# Snow Storm

The first day David went back to school snow was threatening – gray clouds hung low and heavy as I drove the kids to school. The weather fit my mood of foreboding – all day I worried about my son – how would he answer all the questions – the principal had sent out the story that he had a bad flu and had spent some time in the hospital. I worried that he wouldn’t be able to handle the stress, the stares, the whispers. But when I went to pick them up after school all my fears seemed to be allied. David was smiling and asked if he could run to his friend’s house for a sec and then his friend would bring him home – glancing at the still gray sky and the first few snowflakes – I reluctantly agreed – I didn’t want to seem overprotective and thus embarrass him – OK – but be careful and hurry it looks like its finally going to snow. By the time the rest of us reached home the flurries had turned into a snow squall and the police scanner (my husband’s nosy hobby) was calling for ambulances, rescue, and cops in every direction. We had just missed several wrecks on our road – I immediately started to panic – why did I let him go? I called his friend’s house – they had already left – after I had paced for a good half an hour my daughters suggested that we drive as far as we could and then try to walk up to the wrecks since they had shut down the road – and so we did - we had to walk a good half mile in the wind and snow to get to the first crash and of course – they had just towed off the car and opened the road – it wasn’t my son’s friend – they had just been stuck in traffic - trudging back to the car my fifteen year old daughter said “you wouldn’t have done this for any of us – you would have trusted that we were all right and would get home as soon as we could” I didn’t answer because I knew she was right – I didn’t know how to explain or for that matter stop the emotions that were simmering inside waiting at any minute to come spilling out – primal motherhood – an overwhelming sense of needing to protect my son and a terrible fear that in the end I would be unable to – To be cont.