Are You Sitting Down?

“ Hi, Mom, How are you?”

Well, this was odd, I thought, as I answered my daughter with, “ I’m fine, thanks.”

“What are you doing?” she asked. Honestly? - I was trying to figure out why she was calling. Why was she calling, anyway? She lived at home, so she knew how I was and could guess at what I had been doing, until I was interrupted by the phone.

“Where are you?” I asked, still confused.

“At Ryan’s”

“OK, what are you doing?”

“Just watching TV.”

Why had I turned inquisitor, asking the questions, when it was my daughter who had initiated the phone conversation? “Are Ryan’s parents home?”

“Oh yeah, his Mom and I just made cookies.”

“Did you want me to come and get you?” What was the purpose of this phone call, anyway?

“No, I just wanted to talk.” Well, I was confused. Why did she want to talk over the phone? We had lots of other opportunities to talk.

“Ryan said I should call.” What was going on? Why would my eighteen year old’s high school sweetheart suddenly suggest we needed to converse? I didn’t like the nervousness I was beginning to feel. “OK, so why did he think you should call?”

“He said I should just get it over with and tell you.”

“Tell me what?” I decided I’d better be sitting to continue this conversation.

“We’ve told Ryan’s parents and they’re concerned about how you’re going to react.”

“Well, I can’t react until you tell me exactly what’s going on, now can I?” Was my voice going to betray my fears?

“Are you sitting down?”

“Yes.” Oh boy. This was going to be bad. I’m going to be a grandma and my daughter’s not going to university. My stomach was knotting up.

“Promise me you won’t yell and be cross.” It was all I could do to not reply. Angry – never. Yell – maybe. Holler – for sure, if you don’t just spit it out! This is what was going through my mind. Calm, calm, stay calm, just breathe.

“OK. Here goes.” My daughter pauses. I wait. “I had a bit of an accident … with your van. Yesterday. There’s no marks.”

I smile into the phone. Relief. “That’s it? Just a car ding? You’re OK? Nothing more?” I think I’m babbling.

“You’re not angry?” My beautiful daughter obviously thought I would hit the roof.

“My dear. As long as you are OK, everything else is secondary.” I meant that. “Cars are easy to fix.”