My son once walked into the middle of the road in front of a car. He was two years old.
I only took my eyes off him for a moment, but a moment is all it takes for a child to walk off the kerb. I didn’t see what happened in the few seconds between looking away from him, and looking back again, but suddenly, my boy was in the middle of the road. And a car was speeding towards him.
In slow motion, I was aware of every thought passing through my mind, realising every scenario which could unfold from that point. I saw the shock in the driver’s face when he was there in front of her and her relief when he was gone again.
I sometimes wonder what would have happened if I had got there a few seconds later than I did. If, instead of stepping onto the safety of the pavement clutching my little boy, I had in that moment been watching my worst nightmare unfold in front of my helpless, outstretched arms and wide-open scream. What if I had been a little further away, what if he had walked out when the car was that little bit closer to him, what if I hadnt looked back around until it was too late?
Thankfully, I can go on wondering and I will never know. For that, I am so grateful.