I’m counting mine today after my 14 year-old son was involved in a horrific car crash yesterday. The SUV he was in spun, flipped and barrel-rolled. He was able to get out of an open window and while we spent 6 hours in the emergency room last night, he was the only one who walked off on his own power and wasn’t hospitalized.
There were thirty-some first responders on the scene. I arrived as they did.
The Jeep Grand Cherokee after the Jaws of Life cut out the kids.
He’s on crutches today, but he’s fine. I’m counting my blessings.
He said the last thing he saw before going airborne was a white cross. I went back today and found the pieces of the cross. Evidently, some boy named Steve died at the scene in 1999. I don’t know who he was but I feel for his parents and I’m going to rebuild and replant that cross. I’m just glad it wasn’t my “Steve”. That’s my son’s name!