Chapter 1 Two Days After Amazing Grace
Age 30, Mom age 50
In that suspended second before the response, I flinched. The merciful new technology of the caller ID showed me the unknown number from the Houston area, so I braced myself. “Hello?” His voice sent shrapnel into the silence.
He found her unconscious at an abandoned gas station. “She was bleeding,” he said, “from her mouth and – and – you know, her bottom.” I squeezed my eyes shut but the truth didn’t go away. The pain hit. My temples beat objection, hardly containing reality. I wanted to fall. Yet I stood, held the phone to my ear, frozen, noiseless. I could see her there, lying on her side in the gravel. It was summer. She probably wore shorts, probably she wasn’t covered as well as she would want to be, in the most vulnerable state. Maybe she wore an old t-shirt, her hair wild, dusty against the slab. Maybe the blood trickled, and dried. Was it enough to pool? Was she there for an hour? A day? Had someone kicked her? Had she passed out before falling? Hit her head?
How is this what had come to my own mother?
The Voice broke in again about calling an ambulance, calling me, then remained anonymous despite my asking. I realized he would hang up without revealing himself. “Please!” How did he know who she was? She didn’t have any I.D. How did he know my number? How did he know he should call me? Click.
The blessing? At least he called and she was alive. For now.
I know you've been working on this and I hope you continue to do so.
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