"Kim? It's Betsy. We had an accident."
I arrived at Memorial before the ambulance did - don't ask me how, and don't ask how I looked, because it wasn't pretty. But I was there, and that's all that mattered. Details of the crash emerged as I watched my Dad roll out of the ambulance, shards of glass scattered across his face. Someone had waved them through an intersection - given them the "all clear" - when it wasn't clear at all. A white van smashed into the driver's side, crushing the door, and sending my parents into a telephone pole.
Thankfully we only spent the afternoon in the ER, while my dad got checked out, x-rayed, ct-scanned, poked, and prodded. Final diagnosis: O.K! YES!!! Anybody who's ever lost a mom will understand, that's as close as you want to get to losing your dad.
***
By the next night, the three of us were sitting around a table at Sundae Cafe on Tybee, enjoying martinis (them), a glass of Cabernet (me), and a fabulous meal.
Betsy had a spring salad topped with oysters, Dad had seafood bisque, and I had an amazing pecan breaded chicken, half of which I took home with me.
I wanted to get a picture of the three of us, because accidents happen, life is short, and well, it's always nice to have a photo for posterity. As usual, Bets refused to be in the photo, but snapped this one of Dad and me. But she ended up in it anyway, in the reflection! If I look exhausted, it's because I was - I am - the move, the trip to the ER, etc. - but I'm slowly recovering! Come visit - I'll let you pick any of the million boxes to unpack!
Have a fun weekend - and please, for me, go wild!
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