How fragile and precious...

Two things have happened this week that made me so conscious of how fragile my children are.

1) A toddler was hit by a train at a level crossing. He squirmed out of his mother's arms and ran onto the tracks. She saw the whole thing happen. He, of course, died at the scene.

2) A two year old boy in the next village over, Barrow Haven, fell into a pond and drowned yesterday. His parents turned their back for just a minute and he wandered off. They didn't even think to look in the pond, but called the police immediately when they couldn't find him. They did find him, but not in time. CPR was performed, but was unsuccessful.

I love my children so much! And I worry about them all the time. Martin thinks I am over-protective, I know. But I won't let Dylan out our front door until I am out and I totally corral him in our entrance way--absolutely terrified that he will run out in the road and be hit by a car. I make him hold my hand when we are walking--especially in car parks and when crossing the road. One hand is on him at ALL times when we are near water. I have this deep seated and abiding fear that something will happen to him--death OR disfigurement--while I am supposed to be watching him.

I've been thinking about those two kids' poor parents. Both incidents were purely accidents, and nobody was at fault. 2 year olds are FAST and inquisitive and haven't yet developed a sense of danger. But you just know that those mothers are blaming themselves and running over the events of those days over and over again--constantly thinking about what they should have done. You would never forgive yourself for the death of a child.

We don't really tend to think of our own mortality until we have a brush with death. I feel invincible most of the time, and I try not to fixate on how fragile my body is--that would be unhealthy. But when you think about a tiny toddler being hit by a train, well...our bodies are so delicate and so easily crushed. Dylan runs around like a maniac most of the time. He gets bruises and scrapes and cuts, but we don't treat him like he's delicate. Sometimes, though, it's hard not to. It's that knowledge of how fragile the human body is that makes me go out of the house first and block him from the road. I know how precious he is to me, and how it would crush my spirit to see his body broken like that--the body that I made inside my own.

It is always a tragedy when a young person dies. There is always a feeling that their death was untimely and senseless, and just not fair. And when a child dies, it is even worse. But it makes me realize that life is fleeting. I will spend today loving and cherishing my babies, because they could be taken from me at any moment.