Your Convey

I had just taken my first driving practice test and lessons. I then took a theory test for my driving lessons course. For the next couple weeks I took another driving practice test, followed by another driving lessons course, and then another driving lessons course, and finally another driving lessons course. I finally got my license.

Sitting in my office tonight, surrounded by candles, I find myself dissolving in a puddle of tears over what has happened. I can't bear the office light to be on right now but I write to keep from screaming and howling at the injustice of it all. The waiting is so difficult to find out the news about my nephew. He's fighting for his life in the hospital tonight after a drunk driver in an SUV hit him as he was coming into town on his motorcycle.

Tears drip down on my shirt and my eyes are blurred so badly at times I can't see to write. I want to go to the hospital and be there with the family, yet I also want to be alone. I didn't trust myself to drive over there and felt I would just be in the way, so I stayed home to await the news and pray for my beloved nephew.

I first heard the news on the radio while I was working at home. They said it was such a bad accident that the road was closed so the police could investigate. I remember thinking God I hope that wasn't Matt' knowing he was using his motorcycle more than his truck. The hours went by and the reports came on regularly, with few details beyond what I'd already heard. That premonitory feeling just kept getting worse each time the news came on and I prayed I was wrong. I never wanted so badly to be wrong in the knowing what had happened. Then, about three hours after first hearing the news, I got the call that nearly drove me to my knees. It was my nephew that had been hit and he was in really bad shape.

I'll spare you the grisly details and just say that my nephew was five minutes from being dead. He was taken by life flight helicopter across town to the hospital. They didn't even know who he was until later when emergency room people answered his cell phone and had to ask for his name from the caller. That caller was a friend that had driven past and recognized the motorcycle. He's the one who called the family to inform them of the wreck.

The last word I had was just moments ago. My younger daughter called me from the hospital. My daughter tells me that his pelvis was in pieces and no blood was getting to his mangled and partially amputated left leg due to internal bleeding. They've had to amputate what was left of his leg in order to save his life.

An hour has gone by and I sit here waiting further news from the family. My sister is in tatters. My older brother is talking about legal action. He's a lawyer and handles those issues for the family, which thankfully those times have been