Nine.

Nine is the exact number of times that I have driven through the intersection at which my cousin's motorcycle accident happened. The first time I did it on purpose. I wanted to see what it was like, I had never driven that way before. The lanes are wide and the farther north you get the smoother the asphalt becomes. It was 10:46 reportedly and I imagine the traffic was scarce. The night was very warm. As I approached, the downgrade accelerated my cruise control ten whole miles before reaching the up hill swing. What fun he must have been having I thought to myself. The breeze on him, the open road, the race track inspiring bends and turns, not to mention the roller coaster of hill up to the light. I pictured him letting go of the handle bars and smiling that huge goofball smile of his with his arms stretched out to his sides. I chuckled, then the tears began streaming into my lap.

That morning I had taken a yoga class my Aunt was instructing in the park. As I left I was very happy. I spent the drive home in silence thinking fondly of my cousins and how blessed I am to have ended up in this place so far from home and so close to family at the same time. I resolved to make more efforts to spend time with all of my local family. Jake in particular was on my mind. Early that week I had unintentionally delivered food to his home after I mistakenly inverted a couple addresses. He's within walking distance for pity sake. I told myself. Not to mention that DUI he got a while back, you should really reach out to him and let him know you're there if he needs anything.  Having had my own struggles with alcohol I decided I should email him that article I just read: Endocannabinoid release from midbrain dopamine neurons: Apotential substrate for cannabinoid receptor antagonist treatment of addiction but when I got home I found that not only did I not have his email address, but he's not of Facebook AND there's no phone number listed. I planned on calling my Aunt in the next few days anyway so I shrugged it off and went about the rest of my day with my immediate family.

10:34 PM Sunday July 7, 2013

I'd nearly drifted to sleep on the couch when my boyfriend stirred me to move to the bedroom. Going straight to the bathroom I brushed my teeth, washed my face, a prepared for bed. Suddenly I was overwhelmed with sadness. My knees weakened, my face flushed, and tears began pouring from my eyes. I lowed myself to sit on the closed toilet lid and sat shaking, silently sobbing in my hands for several minutes. By 10:46 I had calmed myself down, laughed at the ridiculousness of having to rewash my face and blamed it on hormones. My other half was nearly out when I got to bed. I whispered "I cry when bad things happen to other people all the time, I guess it is just good practice for when something bad happens to someone close to me." He muttered goodnight. I slept restlessly.

7:30 AM Monday July 8, 2013

I was brushing my teeth when I passed by my boyfriends television and caught footage from two horrific motorcycle accidents locally. I watched the replay of the story. I did not make the connection that my cousin drives a motorcycle now. Throughout the day I directed positive energy to the families (though no identities were released).

Around 8 PM Monday July 8, 2013

I was sitting on the sofa watching an educational segment we'd recorded for the kids to see. Out of no where panic struck me. I jerked my body around almost terrified searching for my cell phone. Without a second glance for messages I clutched my phone depressing the power button. Why does this bloody thing ask me three different ways if I want to shut it off before doing it!? I couldn't block whatever incoming message I sensed fast enough. I reasoned, If it is that important they'll call the bat phone. The velocity with which I moved  shifted with such intensity as to peek my boyfriends interest. I returned his curious stare with a wide eyed "Anyone who would need me in an emergency has the house number." We returned to the program.

7:00 AM Tuesday July 9, 2013

It was the first day of my youngest sons football camp. I'd driven him to the sports complex and we were making a plan for where to meet afterwards. It wasn't until he asked me for the time that I pulled out my cell phone and powered it on again. The sun was shining, I was surrounded by hundreds of football boys, now if my phone would just load and camp would begin I could be on my way. Once booted up I noticed I had voice mail. I never check my voice mails, I just call you back, but since the phone was off when the call came in the number isn't in the call log. I've also been known to delete messages without listening to them at all. That morning, however, I was compelled. I listened to the voice mail. I was my mother. "Hi. It's your mom. Call me back." she said. I smiled when I heard my mommy's voice. You're up early, she's an hour ahead, bet she's home if you call her. I called. It was the news that my cousin was in ICU.

Night Thursday July 11, 2013

I get word that my cousin will be going into surgery in the morning. I am elated that he is stable enough for surgery.

Morning Friday July 12, 2013

After dropping the boy off at football camp I went on a mission to find black licorice for my Aunt per my mother. Finding it at the third store I stop into I add it to the other items my family has sent. A yoyo from one son and a mini pool table from the other to help pass the time in the waiting room. I felt as though I were caught in headlights from the moment I woke up, still I made it through the day on autopilot. I called my boyfriend to let him know I was going to the hospital and wasn't sure when I would return. I sat with my Aunt and Uncle until I couldn't & had to leave to pick up my son. It was just after the second surgeon came out to tell us things had gone well and he would be taken back to his ICU room shortly. My heart is hopeful.

3:20ish AM Thursday July 18, 2013

I awaken spontaneously thinking that Jake has been talking to me. He's not there. I can't hear anything now, but the message is clear. You must come to see me at once or you will lose your chance. I am petrified, its the wee morning hours, I can't just go bursting into the ICU. I toss and turn until I wake my boyfriend and then move to the sofa. Turning on a movie, that always puts me to sleep, I load bowl after bowl and find myself unable to sleep. I cried off and on for many hours, disgested my urge to see him that day and waited for a decent hour to text my Aunt. The response was clear. You missed it. I want to call my Aunt, I want to tell her "No Aunty, you can't have space today because Jake came and told me its now or never!" but how do you tell a woman who is holding onto hope that her son will pull through something that sounds so crazy?

Around 5:30 that night I got the call that starts with "Are you sitting down?". Every moment of fear filled anxiety up to that point was instantaneously actualized. I couldn't speak. I attempted to conceal my weeping. I needed to call my mother and sister to tell them the news that brain function had not been detected and he would be under observation through the night. Without brain activity life support would cease.

5:42 AM Friday July 19, 2013

My eyes snapped open as though I'd heard a definite noise in my house. In the pitch dark I easily maneuver my way to the bathroom. Worry weighs heavy on my entire being. Cranking the water as hot as it will go I step in to the shower to cry privately in hopes the heat will relax my muscles and I will go back to bed. If I go now maybe I'll get that chance to see him. I wish there were someway to know what they saw through the night already. I checked Facebook when I woke up though ... no updates. Then, without warning, my eyes clutched shut and rolled toward the top of my head. It is as if somehow the light-less room becomes darker briefly and then becomes a new place. I feel as though I am in his room, in ICU, but I can't see a thing. In the darkness I take check of my senses. Temperature? No. Hearing? No. Emotion? None. JAKE, JAKE, JAAAKKKKKEEE!!!! I tried to scream and like that it was over. I found myself kneeling on the tub floor the water pouring over me still. It's hot again. "He's gone." slipped from my lips and I sobbed, curled up on the shower mat a while longer.

It is 8:08 when I get to my sofa. Wrapped in a bath robe, surrounded by tissues, alone.

24 minutes later the Facebook announcement of his passing goes up.

The first time I drove through it was intentional. I had to see it. The next six times were unexpected and really did a number on me. Having to take my child back and forth between several doctors that day I ended up driving right through it over and over again. I even attempted to go around it but was redirected by a construction crew and end up back there anyway. I'm hyper-vigilant when I drive now, I could tell you what street we're on, which direction we're headed, the nearest cross street, the make and model of most the vehicles in my proximity and even the state the plates are from if not some of the number letter combinations. What I seem to have trouble doing however is making it my destination without a hitch. Unless it is taking the boys to school or coming home I am likely to find myself unwittingly on the route to one or the other when in fact I should be headed to the complete opposite end of town.  

The eighth time I drove through it would have been his 25th birthday. I wanted to tie red ribbons to the street poles as a gift from me to him. The rain and wind would have shredded the ones I bought. It broke my heart.

The ninth time I drove through it was yesterday. I had to take my son to have his cast removed. I had meant to look for another route, but procrastinated too long. The sun was shining, I had him to help me and he had two hands now! Alas I had forgotten to bring the ribbons.

I am angry. I feel guilty. I am hurt. I feel heartache. I am broken.

Thursday Pot Thoughts: Volume 4 (not twenty ... yet).

I may have told you guys this story before, but it has been on my mind lately a lot, so I'm going to talk about it. One night this summer my whole family was piled in the car on our way up the interstate heading home. Just before a white SUV whizzed past us my boyfriend said "Look at this guy!" We were traveling at least 75 mph maybe 80 mph even, and that vehicle just blew by us like we were at a stand still. Within seconds I muttered "He's going to lose control of that vehicle." pointing at it as I watched it began to shudder during a lane change. Sure enough we saw it head sharply toward the median and then back toward the center lane. Did they hit the wall? I thought.

We all smelled it before we saw the break lights and in an instant were at a dead stop. It seemed like eons before my brain pieced it together. What do you see? The SUV is stopped at an angle in the center lane. I cannot see drivers side. Did they hit the median? There's a body in the road. WHAT!? There is a body in the road. Where did it come from? The windows are all intact. Slow motion set in as the gears in my mind turned trying to solve the puzzle. And then it happened, the SUV pulled forward 100 yards into the left lane. There was a motorcycle under the SUV. You don't have your phone. "HAZARDS!" I declared "I don't have a phone, find yours and call 911." I'm out of the car. "Stay in the car." I say to the back seat in a tone no child would ever question. I'm dressed for a birthday party, but I jog toward the injured man in my heels regardless. Not everyone is stopping. He lifts he head up and makes eye contact with me as I approach. I'm almost to him when he reaches for the face mask he was wearing. He's not wearing a helmet. "Sir. Please do not move." I instruct him. I know he comprehends me because he immediately puts his arm back at his side and his forehead to the street. "I am a CNA!" I hear a young woman exclaim. I tag out. KIDS! Not everyone is stopping! My head is battling itself with priorities. PLATE!

"Get the plate," I hear my boyfriend call as if we're having the same experience. I turn back to get the number only to find it's brand new and the tinted windows are too dark to read the temporary tag. I dash back to the car and ask the man parked behind me not to move his car. He is a prison security guard in uniform, he agrees. I look at the faces of my children. They are wide eyed but not hysterical. I hold up one finger and nod at them, they nod back. Traffic already direct the traffic!  I couldn't honestly say how we communicated, hand signals, yelling, telepathically, I think it was probably all of the above, but my boyfriend and I took up the traffic controlling. Miracle! We are in line with an on-ramp and an ambulance just happens to be heading up it. Maybe three minutes have passed. The sun is setting. From no where a man jumps over the median and begins running at us. He doesn't make it to me before my boyfriend intervenes. He is dressed in biker clothing. The man was waiting to meet his friend who never arrived. We send him to the hospital. He verifies that is indeed his missing friends bike.

My boyfriend manages to close off the left side of the highway with the help of other drivers forming a blockade with us. I am stopping and starting traffic from the right lane into the on ramp lane where they can get around the accident if no one is coming up the ramp. I have no means to block this route, other than my body, which loses in a fight to a car every time. A car comes speeding up the on-ramp, and I gasp. They hit no one. My boyfriend comes to my aid and begins directing the oncoming ramp traffic to slow down. We have no flares. They can't see him. Another car zooms past as he raises his arms, willing them to slow down. He's going to try to cross. I hear the engine revving up before I even see the black coupe, but I can't see the driver. I'm fixated on my boyfriend who has stepped out in front of this car to get it's attention. Time froze, and I saw every possibility in that moment. My brain flashed threw clip after clip of outcomes until my mind zeroed in on the one that it wanted. He twisted and leapt into a matrix fast float out of harms way. We don't jump that way, people only move that way in the movies, but he did. Safety praise Jah! The car slowed and missed the EMTs also.

Abruptly traffic from both directions stopped. Ten minutes have passed. Police have arrived and shut down the interstate. I am so relieved to be back in the car with my children. My boyfriend is running around talking to other witnesses and police. You should have taken pictures before they moved him. I grab my tablet and snap a picture of the bike as it lie, from my car door. I want my boyfriend to get back in the car. He doesn't. The officers inform us that the driver had been apprehended a quarter of a mile up the interstate where they lost control of the vehicle. They had not hit anyone else. Three more hours pass before we are told they will call the officer on the on ramp and let him know we're coming down. It's well past the hour for bed on a school night. They don't call and we can't pass the squad car without it moving. The officer gets out of his car and is approaching ours swiftly pulling his mag-lite from his belt as he does. "Where did you come from?" he shines the light on us and heads back to move his car without listening to our explanation.  

The next day I Google search the accident. I find two links that seem to reference the accident but when I click them the both redirect me to an 'article has been removed' page. In the following weeks I searched several times over and came up with zip. Who the devil was in that SUV? I can not even find out if the man survived. I give up. I resign that whoever was driving that SUV was important enough to be protected and so I would never find anything more out. I don't search it and I forget the date for months.

Then suddenly I begin remembering the man's face clear as day, the perplexity in his eyes. I remember thinking how much worse his internal injuries must have been at that speed than what his outward physique revealed. What did you say to him? I wish that I would have said "Sir, my name is Sweet Mary Kane and I am here to help you. Please attempt to lay still in case you have a spinal injury. Someone is calling 911 right now." I wish that I would have offered more comfort than "Sir. Please don't move." I wish I could have asked his name and sent flowers. You wish you knew if he made it. That's true. Perhaps today is the day I Google it again.