We had gone to a friend's house and I found there was no parking in front of their house so I parked smack dab in the middle of the cul-de-sac. Matt was there on his motorcycle, also in the middle of the cul-de-sac, and we were talking through the window. Kevin had gotten out of the truck and was playing with Gabby and climbing on Matt, being his normally friendly self.
Matt decided to park the truck, so he hopped in as I slid over to the passengers side. I told Kevin to wait on the sidewalk. Matt backed the truck to get a better angle at parking, then pulled forward. Suddenly Kevin ran in front of the truck and I saw his face right before we hit him. Matt didn't even slow, but kept going thinking Kevin would be between the wheels not under them. As soon as he stopped I leapt over him and out the door to go to my baby.
I saw him immediately, laying in the street with a smile on his face, but his head in such an unnatural shape. I began screaming, "OH GOD NO! CALL 911!" I ran to him and dropped beside him on the ground, touching and calling to him, "Oh my baby. My Kevin." And I knew there was no life in him. I also knew that with such a brain injury there was no hope in calling 911. I just could not wrap my mind around it.
At that moment, my brain, unable to comprehend such a horror, forced itself out of the subconscious and into the realm of reality. I woke. Trembling. Sweating. Crying. Relieved. Relieved that the most horrific scene I could ever imagine was indeed just in my head. A dream. My worst nightmare.
I woke my husband. I cried out my dream to him, the horror. He understood. He held me. He listened as I whimpered over and over, "Not my Kevin. My baby Kevin." I couldn't close my eyes without seeing the last part of my dream over and over. So, I did what any distraught mother would do. I got out of bed, crept into his room, threw his blankie over my shoulder and lifted my boy into my trembling, hungry for life, motherly arms and carried him back to my room where I held him, looked at him, caressed his perfectly shaped head, looked into his precious blue eyes, gave him a thousand kisses and waited. I waited until reality seeped back into my mind, until when I closed my eyes I saw his living, smiling, finger-sucking face. I listened to him breathe and suck his fingers and the little swish-swish-swish of his fingers rubbing his blankie in rhythm to his sucking.
I must have given him and his baby brother a thousand more kisses today, just for the sheer joy of living. I must have thanked God a thousand times today that my kids are alive and well. And I must have asked God a thousand times to not let that nightmare ever become reality.
And tonight, there is no nightmare, only him!