Walking away from the wreck

We've had an enormous outpouring of support since our encounter with the car wreck in our creek the other night, for which we are grateful. People keep asking how we're doing and I keep saying we're fine, which we are, mostly, except for a few lingering aftereffects:

• Sore muscles in the legs and back from hauling around bodies and babies.
• An obsessive need to keep talking about what happened, trying to illuminate the darkness of that chaotic night.
• A growing anger as more details come out concerning the causes of the wreck. Drunk driving is stupid and irresponsible wherever it happens, but drunk driving on a narrow, twisty, poorly lit country road like ours is simply suicidal.
• A raw spot inside like a scrape that's slow to scab over.

But we're fine--really. And this weekend we plan to get some grandbaby time, which is always good for what ails you. One of these days we'll be able to enjoy our creek again without seeing the ghostly image of that car marring the view, but for now we're concentrating on walking away from the wreck.