Someone's Child Didn't Come Last Night

There was a wrong-way accident on the interstate last night. A wrong way driver entered the roadway on a cold, icy evening and hit an oncoming car; a double-fatality.

I have no details, except to know alcohol (or another substance) was involved and my three adult sons are all accounted for! Nevertheless, my heart sunk.

Somewhere, a family woke to the most horrific news imaginable. It could have been a mother, like me, who expected to prepare breakfast for her child, not a funeral, or a sibling, who was hoping to watch season four of “Ozark.” Or a grandparent, expecting their weekly phone call.

Instead, two people are dead and other seriously injured; and it could have been avoided. It’s too early to know if anyone in the car was sober, but chances are someone saw the group leave and didn’t stop them. Now, on a sunny winter’s morning a family has been damaged beyond repair.

Back in the day, my parents reminded me, not to get in a car with a driver who had been drinking. “Call me; even if it is embarrassing, your father or I are here.” Of course, the added, “we wait up until we hear you return home.”

I laughed. “I’m a grown woman, no need to wait up.” But they did, every time I went out. They expected me to walk into their room and let them know I was home.

I now have three adult sons. All live with me and from the time they could drive a car, there were rules. Not Department of Motor Vehicle rules, but Mom Rules.

They were simple. I need to know where you are. If you drink, and I am not naïve enough to think you won't won’t, don’t drive. Sleep there. Plan ahead. I’ll drop you off and get you. No questions asked.

Since the time when my first child was introduced to alcohol, more than a decade ago, there have been calls, text messages and prearranged transportation; but they lived to tell. Parties, where sensibility would be challenged; milestone birthdays, and post funeral gatherings, even in instances where alcohol played a role in the death. At the beginning, they adhered to the “Mom Rules” begrudgingly, yet later they it was a pro-active admission that they knew they’d be in no condition to drive.

Last night, my sons were accounted for. One is two-hours away, at school. The other two were traveling for together for another show; they crashed on a friend’s couch, in hopes of getting a head start for today’s venue, which was over four hours from our home. 

Before they left, I reminded them, text me when you arrive- and I love you. 

@nymomto3boys