Mother Nature Meets Father Time

Contains Graphic Material

It should have been a sunny, Wednesday afternoon. Nobody was quite sure how everything came to pass. One minute, there was a happy family of four: Mom, Dad, 3 year old daughter, and baby. Where was Dad? Was he at work? Was he inside the house? Where was that little girl supposed to be?

A mother of an infant and a preschooler is a busy woman indeed. Military wives are counseled on maintaining independent accountability for the children and the home, because their husband could be called away at any given moment. He could be called to work an unscheduled shift, an alert accountability formation, or even a deployment. He is often sent to schools out of state, which last anywhere from a couple of weeks to a year or more. It is not to say that the non military spouse cannot be the husband, or that he would not need the same skills as the military wife, but it is still a rare thing to be seen and experienced. Many women in the military who are married, have married other soldiers, or former soldiers, who completely understand the process, and are not likely to grow tiresome from the stress of separation and the unkown details.

Here was a mother of two young children, a military wife. It was a good life. They had a gorgeous four bedroom home with a garage and wall to wall carpeting. The grass was green and cared for on a regular basis by professional lawn maintenance personnel. It was the newest military housing available on the post. They were lucky to be the first inhabitants. She loved her children. She loved her husband. She loved her life, despite the numerous sacrifices.

How did it happen?

She loaded the Expedition, to prepare for an afternoon of errands. The car had been washed recently and shone brightly in the Maryland sunshine.

I felt cheated, having slept through most of this beautiful day, but I work night shift now. I had awaken earlier than usual to attend PWOC, a women's Bible study at the chapel next door. I felt I had slept too late, as the day was running from me.

What was she feeling as she basked in the sunshine? Whatever feelings she had were soon departed. The new housing area on post had too many speed bumps, and unfinished drives and such. Merely backing out of the driveway often felt like an amusement park ride. She kicked the Expedition into reverse, like she did every day.

BUMP! "Dang," she thought, "I hit that stupid curb again!" The air conditioner was running and the windows were up. She could not hear the neighbor screaming in absolute terror for her to stop. She was focused, looking directly behind her for vehicles which might have been passing. She was so focused on the road behind her, she never saw the neighbor running towards the driver's side, waving his hands as he screamed.

Where was that little girl? She was not supposed to be in the driveway. Nobody could possibly see her tiny profile through the rearview mirror of the high seated Expedition. There was another thump, immmediately following the first thump, as a once jolly little human body, exploded across the driveway. The horror! How could she not know her little girl was behind her?

My heart sank when the news reached my neighborhood. I suddenly felt blessed to have been shafted and thrown into the oldest housing on post, with no driveway, and no garage. I was placed in the housing close to the Chapel, close to God, far from traffic.

This is a true story. My neighbor ran over her three year old daughter yesterday. Today an ambulance came for the mother. I have not received an update, as to whether or not she was taken to the hospital, but if it was me, they would have had to institutionalize me immediately. I know she was on suicide watch yesterday. I pray for this mother, who in her anger, has denounced God. Please pray for this family with me.

I am sorry if you find this offfensive, but it has weighed heavily on my heart, and I needed to write it.