A few months ago, we got a phone call. "Mom, Dad...I've been in a wreck."
Now, given that our son rides a motorcycle, my heart stopped right there. As it turns out, a pizza delivery driver pulled out--and into--Chase. The bike was totaled, but Chase was not. I talked with him on the phone. Hung up. Then promptly burst into tears.
Chase's wrist was fractured and ligaments torn...and I was incredibly greatful the damage wasn't fatal.
His surgery was scheduled for December 31st, so we canceled our annual party so we could be with him. Then the surgery was bumped, leaving us at loose ends for New Years Eve.
We talked and we laughed...the way you only can with really great friends that you've known forever. And of course, since we were with Floyd and Robin, the soundtrack for the evening was great!
Chase's surgery was on Tuesday, so John and I drove to College Station to meet him at the hospital there.
When you have a grown up son, it is nice every once in awhile to get the opportunity to do parental stuff. We shuttled medical records, navigated the insurance stuff and took care of getting prescriptions, food, then drove Chase and his vehicle back to Dallas where he is hanging out in our guest room while he recouperates. (His right hand had the surgery, so he can't drive for quite awhile. We all have stick-shifts.)
It has been nice just having him around.