He comes and sits beside me.
I stare at my hands, tight lipped.
He looks at me sideways, and whispers, "do you wanna talk about it?"
"OK......Why don't you want to talk about it?"
"'cause it was my fault."
"Why does that matter?"
"Why does that matter? WHY DOES THAT MATTER?! Because it DOES!"
"You seem a little scared. Why are you scared? Is it because he could have died?"
"Yes, no. If he'd died the family and I would have lived with the grief and it would have hurt always. But, if he had been put in a wheel chair or had a brain injury that he had to live with every day for the rest of his life...... The pain he'd have to face every day, and it would have been all my fault. That scares me, I don't know if I could live with that and that scares me even more."
"Do you remember the lady who was ushering him off the road?"
"Not really, it's a bit of a blur."
"Do you remember what she said?"
"She said 'I'd never let anything happen to him'. That's an odd thing to say now I think about it."
"She was his Angel"
"That explains things. She must work pretty hard hey?"
"Yeah, a bit."
"Maybe an extra would be a good idea hey. Does this mean he'll never get hurt?"
"What does it mean then?"
"It means that nothing will happen to him that we can't handle together."
"Even if it's my fault? Even if I don't watch him properly?"
"Even then. I have saved his life several times a day every day since he started walking, you know that. I have my eye on him, even when yours is elsewhere."
"I'll try and watch him better."
"thanks for not making me talk about it."