My Dad drove his van into a tree on Saturday. Quite by snowy road related accident. So while the ambulance crew is strapping him to the backboard, he has his great nephew (whose brother was also being hauled away for a CAT scan) call my Mom to get Howdie's phone number. Not to tell her about the accident--just to get Howdie's number. (Howdie owns a salvage yard and does all the body work on my Dad's vehicles.) My Mom is not dumb. (She raised 7 kids-most of whom learned to drive.)
"Why do you need Howdie's number?"
" We had a little accident."
"Is everyone alright?"
"Yes, we're all okay."
"How is the van?"
"Not so good."
"Okay, do you have something to write with?"
Notice the complete absence in this conversation of anything resembling a tree, 911, paramedics, blood, ambulances, hospitals, and/or suspected head injuries.
So this is the order of things: Accident, 911, Howdie.
My Dad trusts Howdie. He knows he will come and haul the van away. He will take care of his equipment, his glasses, and hopefully his tossel hat. He will call him when the van is 'ready'. He will treat him fairly. Howdie is probably in the will ahead of me.
The oddly reassuring thing about this is that it is so typical of my Dad that I know he really is okay. I don't need to see the CAT scan results.
(Love you Dad.)
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