Emotionally Surviving a Traumatic Event

It’s four in the morning. The phone rings. No one’s there. Caller ID says it’s my daughter in LA. My heart pounds. I call back. It goes straight to voice mail. I text, but there’s no response. I wait - check my email and find a disturbing message. I call again. Finally she answers. My phone is acting weird. Sorry. I’m fine.

I cannot fall back to sleep. I am concocting a response to her email in my head.

John saw a biker get hit by a car. I only saw the aftermath. Lots of blood and the guy wasn't moving. The entire windshield was smashed. It was horrifying. Click here to read more.