Always Wear Your Seatbelt
Always Wear Your Seatbelt “You don’t remember me, do you?” The woman in the driver’s seat seemed to think I knew her. I glanced down at the form on my clipboard, hoping her name would jog my memory. At no time while I was administering her driving test had she seemed familiar to me. “I’m Wade’s mom.” I did remember her son. He and my son Matthew worked in tandem to deal misery to their kindergarten teacher Mrs. Crawford. I shifted in the passenger seat to look directly at this woman, a connection to life before the wreck . “I was surprised when your husband brought Wade to the funeral. That’s a lot for a five-year-old to deal with.” “I have to tell you what happened the weekend of your accident.” I listened intently, unaware of anything be...