#bless mary

(Bit of context; I do not live in the USA and my first language isn’t English. Shocker, I know. Also, I’m a religious (Catholic) person; I understand if you aren’t or don’t have the same religion as me. Just a heads up cause I do mention briefly that, just in case anyone feels uncomfortable about that.)

I had an awful day today.

my dad n lil bro ride bikes bc my bro is an a triathlon team n my dad loves to ride bikes for years now, so he accompanies my bro on this early Sunday rides.

Anyway, I had my first driving lesson today, so I wanted to wake up early to do some cardio before getting ready to go have the class. While I was getting ready, I get a phone call from my dad. I answer with a chirpy tone as usual, when I hear my dad say in a full serous yet shaky tone: “I need to talk to your mother”.

I rush to my parents bedroom, where my mom is slowly waking up and watching Luca (beautiful movie btw). I come in, looking worried, as I pass her the phone. She answers and my dad told us through the speaker that he was hit by a car. It was a hit and run accident. Luckily, the police was involved and we have the plates of the car.

We didn’t take more than 10 minutes to get changed and take absolutely everything we thought we needed. My mom went from being sleepy to being sharp and awake. We didn’t know where to go, so my dad told us to meet them (dad n bro) at a clinic. We drove there, tension thick as shit. I had to cancel my class, but that’s besides the point.

When the men of the family arrived, my dad looked bad. Bruises everywhere, his cycling uniform torn and he said he had a headache from the fall. We got him inside and we were told to wait for a little bit so they checked on him. I remember holding my bros (?) helmet and not reacting much. I did almost cry there but I held it pretty well, all things considered.

I tried to make small talk with my bro, but he was in shock (he still is; he hasn’t been able to talk of what happened). We didn’t wait long before the doctors took my dad in. I waited with my brother a bit more before our mom took us to have breakfast.

Fun fact about me: I can’t eat shit for the life of me when I’m nervous. So guess what happened? Also, my brother and I were able to gaslight and manipulate my mom into eating something, so that was absolutely amazing.

After breakfast, my mom drove us home (we live like 20 minutes away from that clinic without traffic). She made a bag for my dad and I helped organize their room, just in case my dad came back. My mom, after getting everything she needed, went back to the clinic to be with my dad.

I spend most afternoon dissociating. I watched DHMIS videos and even organized many papers that I don’t need anymore because I was bored. I watched videos of Hazbin Hotel redesigns that my friend send me to pass the time (we both talk shit about the hellaverse all the time. It’s fucking great).

We were lucking and god bless God himself and Mary and Jesus and anyone else, because my dad didn’t have any fractures and didn’t stay the night at the clinic. We ate McDonalds for lunch and my dad was bandaged up and looked better than that morning.

I disassociate more as I watched more videos about movies and shows and characters while switching to listen to music. My aunt (my dad’s sis) and uncle (her husband) came to visit my dad and see how he’s doing. They stayed and talked to him while I had some ramen and tea with my brother, which he took as an opportunity to show me awful memes.

I was able to help my mom around the house and help her, because no matter how much shit I talk about her, she’s still my mom and she looked genuinely scared. My mom, who usually is behind smiles and poker faces, was terrified today.

anyway, after everything is said and done, all I have left are me n my thoughts with a wild imagination. And you know what? They fucking suck.

If my dads guardian angel wasn’t beefed or that the Lord didn’t appreciate our devotion to Him or that Jesus didn’t know how frequently we adore him or Mary didn’t listen to the many prayers we had for her from almost every member of our family, my dad would’ve been hospitalized, with broken bones and bruises. He’d probably be unconscious.

Or maybe, it wasn’t my dad, it was my baby brother. maybe he would have to be hospitalized and be breathing by a tube.

…

…

…

Or maybe I would’ve received my dad in a body bag. Maybe my brother. Maybe both of them would’ve been in a body bag.

…

I don’t like to dwell on what if’s, it I was so genuinely scared today.

I saw my dad, a man who is strong and has a great personality, a good moral compass and a good heart, being so physically broken.

I say my mom, a woman who has such power in each room she walks in, someone who doesn’t shake, be so fragile and so close to breaking because she thought the love of her life would’ve died.

my brother played in cool, but I know that he’s hiding behind a mask. We both do it. I can see it.

HAD A SHIT FUCKING DAY :’)

oh no she does want to kill him! she just loves him too much to kill him. he is too good to waste