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Easter Monday Neil Southern
This is a true story of my Easter Monday. Today my son and his children were nearly killed. His car set alight. He was changing a fuse on the drive of his house. One of the kids Said there was smoke and they thankfully ran into the house. Natasha phoned me in a panic. ‘There car is on fire real bad!’ I immediately thought they were in it. In a split second I thought of my blessed grandchildren in an inferno. I cannot put that feeling into words. I cannot. People say trauma happens in slow motion and it does. My mind raced and frantically loaded images of their short years into my consciousness. Flashes of times gone. Like a montage of their lives in a blink of an eye. Tasha was hysterical for a few seconds and then thoughtfully said ‘We are all right Grandad, we got to the house!’ When I got there the car was devastated. Virtually nothing left. The fire officer, who was about my age, said ‘Look, it is a piece of tin’ with a knowing look, a dry smile. ‘At least your lad and the kids are unharmed. Yesterday we got to two kids and the Mum but couldn’t reach their baby sister’ His eyes glassed over. He paused. He smiled. We connected for that moment and I knew what he was saying to me. I did. I hugged my grandkids after the firemen left but the visions of that moment still haunt me. I am so lucky. I wanted to share this with you. This was my Easter Monday.
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