Glad You are Alive

It’s a little melodramatic, but remember when I thought you were dead?

Your car stalled about a half a block from your parent’s house so we walked.

Your father and brother grabbed the tool box and the three of you headed out.

You came back in, patted me as you walked by and said you needed to get a towel so you could lay on it while you were under the care.

Ten minutes later your brother and father came in whooping like only the men in your family can whoop—you really are a loud lot. Your brother was saying, “get on the phone, it blew up!” Your father agreed.

I asked for you but they whooped on. I started screaming. They seemed so delighted at my panic and I ascertained they did not know you were under the car. Until my tears started flowing, they kept describing the flames and the explosion. I couldn’t make them understand you were still under the car.

I flung the door open to run and you appeared. I threw myself, relieved, in to your arms. You furrowed your brow because this was not my normal reaction to 30 minutes of separation.

Once sorted out, the confusion was caused because your ever hilarious father and brother thought they would alarm me by pretending the damage to the car was severe. They really had not realized I thought you were frying under it.

We sat on the couch, and while my chest was still in spasms that occur after a hard cry, you smiled at me. Maybe it was a grin. You turned your head to me, and your eyes had that twinkle.

“You didn’t want me to die.” You said, and you could not have been more pleased. I wanted to wring your neck.

I am glad you are not sleeping in a collapsed coal mine tonight. I am glad I don’t have to wonder every second if you were already crushed, or if the next second, maybe the second I am wiping my eye or eating a potato, will be the second your air runs out.

Someone’s wife, someone’s mother, sister, or friend is thinking about that tonight and I just can't imagine a night, where every single second is like the ones when I didn't know where you were.

I feel lucky that I can sleep tonight where I know you are. So listen up, I am about to say somthing real romantic:

I STILL don't want you to die.