It is another Sunday morning, and like last week, I’m sitting in Pachamama’s, writing a blog post before jumping back into The Psychic Out of Time. It has been an eventful week. There’s been a lot to process.

Last week on Sunday, as Melissa and I enjoyed our time in the coffee shop, Chris laid his bike down. He, a novice, rode with a group of bikers on a very technical route. His friend Nico rode ahead of him and went down first. Chris didn’t know Nico crashed until he went down himself. Chris got a little bit of road rash on his right arm and some deep bruising on his shoulder, but was otherwise unharmed. Nico sustained much more serious injuries. Nico died in the ambulance. Chris was the last person Nico spoke to.

Melissa and I didn’t find out until later that evening. Chris went to the hospital, and they gave him fluids. He didn’t call us. The accident occurred around 9:30AM, and Chris walked in the door at home a little after 9PM. He didn’t want to talk about it. He definitely didn’t want to talk to his Melissa, because she has been critical of his decision to get a motorcycle the entire time. He went outside to call his boss. I went out after him, hugged him, and gave him an opportunity to grieve. He told me he hadn’t been able to cry about what happened until that moment.

The next day, I had some processing to do myself. I almost lost my son. He was fine, physically, but it could have gone the other way. Chris walked away from the accident, but his friend died. Somewhere out there, a father that lost his 21 year old son. There is no denying that I could have lost Chris.

Tuesday and Wednesday, I went into the office and worked. My boss was in town, so I met with him. We had a couple of new people join Trimark, and I needed to train one of them. I navigated some unnecessary drama concerning where I was going to sit while in the office. Mostly, the normal stresses of work helped me deal with the abnormal stress of a near-death experience of a loved one.

I continue to process, but Melissa struggles. She had to go to the place where the accident happened and see it herself. She questions details of the story. Chris said he didn’t see Nico until after he went down. The other people riding with him and Nico kept going because they didn’t see Chris or Nico on the ground. Melissa can’t wrap her head around that. She’s having trouble getting to the other side. She doesn’t seem to want to feel relief from the fact that our son is alive and still with us.

Chris’s motorcycle sustained some damage. One of the front spokes is bent and will need to be fully replaced. There is quite a bit of cosmetic damage. With some money and some TLC, I think the bike will function again. Chris wants to ride again, and that also bothers Melissa.

How do you deal with a trauma like this? What’s the right thing to do?

There may not be a right or a wrong answer here. The way I see it, getting a motorcycle was Chris exercising his ability to be an adult. He did the research, bought the gear, took the courses, and made all of the decisions on his own. He picked something and exercised a little bit of ambition and free will to make it his thing. He found a community of people enthusiastic about riding and he joined them. He chose to make this a part of his identity. As a parent, isn’t this what I want my children to do?

Melissa thinks that he shouldn’t ride again. He could have died. Motorcycles are dangerous. How can he go back to it?

I think he should continue making adult decisions. I don’t think he should let fear control him. He should acknowledge the fear, learn from his mistakes, and evaluate what’s best for himself. He could have died, but he didn’t. He wore protected gear that helped him. I’m sure that when he was going down, he followed his instincts and training, preventing the situation from getting worse.

Choosing the safest way isn’t always the best choice. Letting an accident define your choices and redefine who you are isn’t the best way to handle adversity. Chris chose to become a biker, sort of how I chose to be a writer. He now has to choose whether or not he wants to keep that identity.

There is still more processing and healing to be done. Chris doesn’t have complete mobility in his right arm yet, and needs a doctor to sign something saying he can go back to work. He still needs to deal with the loss of his friend. Melissa still needs to process the shock of nearly losing her son, and to a certain extent, deal with the loss that comes from one of her children growing up and choosing their own path, even if it’s a path she disagrees with.

I probably still have some processing to do, too. This isn’t the blog post I meant to write, but I think it’s the one I needed to write.