This was the first “story-rhyme” I ever did. It is a bit rough, and I am amazed I got through such a long tale for my first attempt! Surely that would have dissuaded me from trying anything else. No? No, I’m “just a glutton for punishment”. If you have not read the story behind this, I suggest you read the prior post first, as this really leaves out a lot of it.
I was amazed to hear I won an award.
It was Nurse of the Year; I had finally scored!
I was so excited! A ceremony was planned
and I was invited to a lunch quite grand!
My son’s bus had loud breaks for months,
sounds like a grinding raucous screech;
to my imagination, it made death knell grunts.
My parents, the bus driver and I would speak.
The driver would say, frustrated and vexed,
“I have asked to have the brakes fixed.
But the mechanics have always replied
“Nothing is wrong, there is no risk!”
On the day of my award,
I was in a hurry for him to board.
Distracted while walking to his stop,
I was astonished, as the bus drew near,
that my eyes were closed with hands over ears.
I thought my eardrums were going to pop
as the breaks, screeching, seemed to bust.
The horrible, decibel deafening noise
made me say, “should I send my boy?”
Without knowing, I grabbed Garin’s hood tight
thinking, “I’m nuts, the breaks are all right.”
And I let him go free.
Twenty minutes later a friend called me.
“There’s been a bus accident and Garin’s ok
but come on down anyway.”
As I neared a long steep hill
I looked up, and my heart stood still.
Six helicopters circling around
and emergency lights as far as I could see
spread out in circles around the valley.
The bus laid drunkenly on its side
having over a ravine flown.
Hands on mouth I began to cry
at a visceral horror I’d never known.
Stunned, my heart began to pound
as my eyes took in the horrible sight.
Frantic, calling the first employee I found,
“Call a Code White, they’re on the way
and cancel my special day!”
All roads cut off, I stopped and began to run
telling the police I must find my son.
Screams all around, children on the ground
huddled in triage groups; I could not find my child.
I began to sob, screaming his name.
I couldn’t see, my eyes, streaming and wild,
the groups all looked the same.
“Lori, over here!” my friend yelled.
“Oh God what’s wrong?” I tersely cried.
“He was trapped” she replied.
Garin, on a backboard, tightly held
covered in blood and dirt along one side.
He was screaming in terrible pain.
“Mommy I really hurt!” he cried.
A first responder asked “what is his name?”
“Garin” I stumbled, trauma slowing my brain.
An ambulance was ready, he was loaded
and, mind numb, to my car I flew.
In shock, the images in my brain exploded
and the adrenaline on which I drew
made me shake as it quickly unloaded.
I called my husband Brent,
and told him to come quickly.
Words incoherent, my mind unbent
reaching the hospital, I was shaky and spent.
I met Brent as we were taken to Garin’s room.
He was crying, traumatized, and hurt.
Huge bruises emerged as I removed the dirt.
To check out his pain, he was sent to CT.
Praise God there was nothing they could see!
The docs then discussed their plan with me.
They were sending him to ICU.
It would protect us from the interviews
and monitor for contusion of his bowel.
He spent the night with fits of pain,
but my brave boy was ready NOW
to leave this place behind and go home again.
For 3 days he limped around, weak and quiet.
The news was saturated with the accident.
The media was bugging us, ready to riot.
We tried to make sense of this horrible event.
While Garin’s memory and fears slowly faded,
to some, this accident forever invaded;
their injured and dead could not be traded.
God protected my son, the reason unknown.
But my humble gratitude is to Him alone.