“I’m grown, I don’t need you anymore,” were the words texted to me yesterday by a recently moved out 20 year old son of mine. “Leave me alone, I’m doing OK.”

Right.

I’m going to leave a kid of mine alone? After 17 grown kids bolting, I’m finally slowly learning what they really need.

“OK,” I’d texted back, “I’m not going to leave you alone. I know that you need reassurance.”

No reply. I got busy in the garden, tending to the other kids all afternoon, barely noticing around five that evening, that the one who’d moved out, but still came over each day to ignore me, wasn’t yet home. He has his own schedule so I really didn’t think much of it until a lady called, telling me he’d been in an accident.

It was a terrible accident, he miraculously escaped injury. He was wearing his seat belt but the deputies still didn’t see how he crawled out of a crushed car, in a creek, upside down that had flipped and rolled, all the windows busted out.

He clouded up when he saw me there, he’d given that lady my cell phone number, I’m sure part of him wondered if I’d come. That scared little boy part of him that doesn’t understand that a mama’s love is forever, although he has seen me remain extremely close to all my other grown children.

He went to the hospital by ambulance, briefly held my hand in the trauma room, but it soon was obvious that he was somehow uninjured. Even the doctors couldn’t believe he’d survived this.

He grew rude and cocky once again, it took all my resolve not to turn heel and walk out on him. He wavered between being a needy toddler and the false bravado that soon aggravated his two sisters as well. He came home with us, went to his old room and slept for 12 hours straight, waking up this morning in a mildly improved mood.

Now he has to face the consequences. Fortunately he’s not facing any major traffic charges, but he has to get a new used car, replace his cell phone and deal with the insurance company. He’s ill equipped to do any of that, needing my advice and knowing it.

I’m holding off on the “I told you so”, but I did have a moment of pointing out that all kids still needed their moms.

I’m not very positive that he’s going to learn much from this experience as he’s still holding on to his chilly attitude, this from a formerly self-proclaimed Mama’s Boy. He knows how miraculous his survival was, but to put it into life-changing behaviors is not a realistic expectation for someone like him at the moment.

I’m a personal wreck after this event, knowing how close I came to losing a son. I’m way older than him, more perceptive and aware of how fleeting our lives really are in reality. I pray that even an inkling of his own mortality seeps through his blustery, over-compensating ego.