"The damn thermometer is gone again. I only took my eyes off of her for two seconds and she gets it and now i can't find it. Sophia, why do you make mommies life difficult?".......At least your child is alive.
Those six words have made quite and impact on this (fairly) new mom in the past three weeks. I learned three weeks ago that a friend  lost his 16 year old in a horrible accident, he was hit by 5 cars (only one stopped, that infuriates me).  He was Autistic and prone to wandering. If you don't know, autistic children tend to wander. As they get older it gets harder and harder to keep them inside. This is no fault of his parents. They noticed he was missing when they went to check on him and promptly alerted the right authorities and spent hours looking for him. By the time someone called to report they had seen him it was too late.
After this weekend (his funeral), he will be forgotten by the media, by the curious people reading and watching for updates on him, and the general public. Life will go on for everyone. His family, though, will still be grieving, still be trying to make it through each day without him, and still learning their new normal. That sucks, plain and simple.
So why then, when I'm just a friend of the family, is this situation bothering me, almost borderline haunting me to the very core? Very simple, it changed me. It shook me. It SCARED me. Now I do realize that my child is only one and is not autistic, let alone walking, but does that truly matter? NO.
This situation has turned me into a better, slightly more paranoid (if that's even possible) mom. It reminded me that no matter what I do, I'm not in control of when it is my child's (or anyone's) time to go. That makes my blood go cold. It's also reminded me to enjoy every single second of my daughter's life.
Like many mom's, my favorite time of day used to be bed time. I won't lie, I still have my days where I can't wait until I have a moment to myself, but there aren't nearly as many as there used to be. I now feel so lucky to be able to play, sing, read, laugh, chase, and just be with my girl. Of course I still get annoyed for little reasons, but that little voice in my head reminds me what I have, and that annoyance quickly fades. I'm more grateful than I have ever been, and from now on will constantly be reminded just how lucky I truly am.
It took a tragedy to change my life for the better. It shouldn't have, but so be it. I now make sure that the first and last words my child hears in the morning and at night are "mommy and daddy love you more than anything". That's what she will be hearing for the rest of her life (even when she is 15 and swearing up and down that I'm too strict and ruining her life).
Rest in Peace Jeffery, I'll never forget you and I promise I'll never forget the very important lesson you taught me.