And that boy, he called his daddy to tell him what he did
As the masses screamed the lyrics of a messed up kid
And then he told that old man he was never coming back
To be cut down again in a town like that

Then he surely came to learn people come to watch you fall
But he’s out to make a name and a fool out of ’em all
They’ll never understand that boy and his kind
All they comprehend is a fucking dollar sign

Don’t stop goin’, goin’ South
‘Cause they’ll let you play your music real damn loud
Don’t stop headin’, headin’ South
‘Cause they will understand the words
That are pouring from your mouth

~Zach Bryan

Adam and I decided, back when our babies really were still babies, they would not be spoiled. We wanted to instill the same strong work ethics that carried us as far as we’ve gotten. In fact, we wanted to see them go much further than we ever will. We all know folks who never appreciated the value of a dollar hard earned. Those who were handed everything they’ve got, and as a result, weren’t ever rewarded with the pride you experience when you’re able to achieve something by yourself. That truly teaches us lessons that are necessary to survive, if you ever find yourself “starting from the bottom”. Life brings the most beautiful and amazing things. It also has a way of slapping you right from your comfy place, and presenting us with challenges that seem damn near impossible. It’s in the “climb”, that we grow to believe in ourselves. We prove, both to ourself and others, I am strong enough. I am capable. I am going to find my way back to good, and then go forward to even better places.

Having said all that, I’m not sure we can stick to those principles, quite like we intended to. We’re considering buying Mikayla a new car. After explaining our “firm” stance, to our children, about why they would not be gifted new cars, but instead would need to work for one, here we are. I’ve never felt this kind of ache, on behalf of one of my babies. I’ve never had to see them fall down this hard. I wasn’t prepared for the guilt, sorrow, and frustration, that comes along with being the parent of a child who’s unjustly victimized by life. Unfortunately, I well understand, this is the first of many times Mikayla is going to find herself here, back at the “start line”. So then, what do we do? There’s a great big part of me that’s yelling to myself, it’s our job, as parents, to help our kids. What kind of mother would I be, if I stood idly by, while my child suffers through such an undeserved punishment, doled out by this cruel world we brought her into? On the other hand, I absolutely do not want to teach our children that we’ll just buy them a new car, if they crash theirs. That would be a very dangerous thing to do. We’ve come to a conclusion, though. We’re going to get her a new car, and she will make payments on it, to us.

I finally slept, last night. I also slept, this morning, after I got the kids off to school. I’ve had a horrible headache, for days. Like the kind you wake up with, after spending the night before, crying your eyes dry. I get an anxious panic, every time one of my kids walks out our front door. It’s a constant adrenaline rush, all day and night. Adam tells me to be good, every time he leaves. My recent response is, I don’t have time to be anything else!

My sister, her husband, and my baby niece moved, a couple weeks ago. I babysat for Pj a lot, while they packed. We had so much fun with her. It was painful as hell, to tell them goodbye, as they left for Texas.

I’ve really thrown my creative energy into crafting things, lately. I suppose it was easier for me to occupy my brain with building something, than to take the time to sit with my thoughts, so I could write them down here. That requires more emotional energy than I was prepared to expend, yet. After my daughter’s car accident, the little compartment inside my head, where I keep the things I’m not ready to deal with, was overflowing. I had to let some of it out. So, I did.

The last couple days were filled with phone calls and appointments. We had MiKayla’s car towed back home. She had just sent off the title, to be put in her name, last Friday. So, we’re stuck waiting for it to come in the mail. We can’t do anything with her car, until it does. There’s a sad reminder of what was, parked in our driveway.

She went back to school, this morning. She’ll be going back to her work, this afternoon. We’re slowly getting back to as normal as possible. That feels good. The kids are on Fall break, all next week. That’ll be a welcome break.

Those are a few of the things I’ve recently done. It’s relaxing, to hang out in the basement, listening to music, and using my hands to create pretty things.

~Jordan Davis

One of my babies was nearly taken from us, yesterday. Mikayla. Saturday, she’d gone to an honor guard competition. Her team had won. She was so proud and happy! She came home and showed off her pictures with their trophies. Justin and Jackie were here. It was such a beautiful Saturday.

Sunday morning, she left for work. I’d heard her walk out the front door, but I was in the other room. She didn’t come to tell me she was leaving, because she thought I was still asleep. I was really just in my bathroom. I knew where she was headed to, though.

Minutes later, I was standing in my kitchen, stirring my coffee, when my phone rang. It was my baby’s number. My heart leapt through my chest, as I answered it. I somehow knew. My words that followed were simply, “Oh my God, what happened?!” Something in me already sensed that I was about to hear a series of words strung together, I’d prayed would never come. My hysterical daughter screamed, “Mama! Mama!” I kept repeating “WHAT?! WHAT?!” Finally, she was able to tell me, through her terrified tears, “I crashed my car!” Adam had already heard her through my phone. We were on our way out the door, as I was speaking to her. She was only blocks from home. Her car, and my baby, were down a steep ditch, surrounded by trees. I’m struggling through my own sobs and tears, just to write this down now. Telling this story, here, is the first time I’ve really allowed myself to replay the whole series of events. The panic and fear that I continue to feel, is unmatched by any other life occurrence. I cannot bear to imagine my life without one of my children here. I didn’t even hug her goodbye. I could have missed my last opportunity to hold onto her. Even though, thank God, she is okay, I can’t stop the flood of emotion that comes when I consider, but what if. I would never, ever, forgive myself.

She is pretty banged up. She’s got a deep bruise down her shoulder and chest, from her seatbelt. She’s got whiplash, a possible concussion, and several other bumps and bruises. She’s been taking pain medication, along with ice packs and rest. Unfortunately, her car won’t be okay. It’s a total loss. That little white car that she worked for two summers to pay for. She was so very proud to have bought her own car, and rightfully so! This kid has been an honor student, through her whole school career. She’s the hardest working teenager anybody’s ever known. She excels at everything she sets her mind to. All the things she has, have been hard earned, and well deserved. In an instant, her prized possession was all gone. Mine (my daughter) is still here. Although I’m grateful beyond words, to have been able to bring our baby back home, I’m devastated this happened to my sweet girl. As I watch our security camera video of her walking out, Sunday morning, tears pour from my eyes. I see my carefree, happy child, with a little bounce in her step, as she left for work. I can feel that a piece of her innocence was lost, after her accident, just moments later. A piece of my daughter’s joy was taken from her, and from the world. I’m certain, she’ll get a new car, and life will go on. She’ll smile and laugh. She’ll have plenty of happiness. But, there’s a part of her that I’m aware will probably never return. I so deeply wish I could go back in time, and run out to stop her from having left just yet. Hug my girl, tell her how much I love her, and ask her to go a different way to work.

My heart is heavy. Emotions are raw. I didn’t get a minute of sleep, last night, so I’m also exhausted. The purest love I have, is for my babies. I hurt when they hurt. I cry when they’re sad. I celebrate their successes. I’ve plead to God so many times, over the last 24 hours, please don’t call any of my children “home”, for many many more years. I never want to miss another opportunity to hold them, and remind them how much they’re loved. I just want to make this all better, for her. I’m so incredibly proud to be her mama. To be all of my children’s mama.

Give your loved ones an extra squeeze, tonight. We truly never know when, or if, our next opportunity to do so will come.