I’ve lived through some terrible things in my life, some of which actually happened. Mark Twain

I tempted fate in dozens of ways when I was young.
Accepting a promotion I was ill-prepared for,
walking home alone at midnight on city streets,
wearing my youthful invincibility like a shield.

Despite my parents’ handwringing
over what could happen,
and their “I’m not worried about you, it’s who you run into”
I learned the worst doesn’t always happen.

Sometimes the older high school boyfriend
doesn’t press his advantage,
and your friend’s car makes it over Patchen Pass
even though the clutch went out.

My father’s colon cancer requiring only surgery to cure,
my mother facing down a group of teenage muggers at the park,
Dan walking away without a scratch
when the semi-truck t-boned his car.

With every close call that went our way,
I got a little more convinced
that I had control where none existed.

Even when Jimmy’s brain tumor proved to be the zebra
the pediatrician refused to believe was coming
when we heard hooves around the corner,
I never doubted I could keep him safe.

After all, the odds were on our side.
80% survival, one of the country’s best
pediatric neuro-oncologists running point.
I was sure he’d dodge the bullet and live a long, full life.

We humans are terrible at risk analysis.
So focused on the plane dropping from the sky,
we never see the car crash coming.

But once you’ve had the worst thing happen,
it’s harder to look away.
To remember that common things are common,
that other people’s children live.