Always Wear Your Seatbelt
“You don’t remember me, do you?” The woman in the driver’s seat seemed to think I knew her. I glanced down at the form on my clipboard, hoping her name would jog my memory. At no time while I was administering her driving test had she seemed familiar to me.  
      “I’m Wade’s mom.”
       I did remember her son.  He and my son Matthew worked in tandem to deal misery to their kindergarten teacher Mrs. Crawford. 
      I shifted in the passenger seat to look directly at this woman, a connection to life before the wreck. “I was surprised when your husband brought Wade to the funeral. That’s a lot for a five-year-old to deal with.”
      “I have to tell you what happened the weekend of your accident.”
      I listened intently, unaware of anything beyond the front seat of that car, eager to hear any story that involved a connection to my son.   
            Wade’s mom began, “That Saturday, Wade was staying out of town with relatives. We heard about the wreck, and that Matthew had died. We wondered how to tell Wade. Since he didn’t get home until late that night, we decided to wait until the next morning.” 
            As she spoke, I realized the ripple effect of that tragic day. This mom had to explain to her five-year-old that his best friend had been killed. 
            “When Wade woke up and came into the kitchen, we told him that Matthew wouldn’t be at school on Monday. We couldn’t believe what he told us:”

            “I know.”

            “How do you know?”
            “Matthew was in my room last night. He said we wouldn’t be able to play at school anymore, but we could play when I get to Heaven. And he told me to always wear my seatbelt.”
            I listened with tears in my eyes and a smile on my face. I could just hear Matthew saying those words. 
Wade’s mom’s voice brought me back to reality. “Was he wearing his seatbelt?” 
“No,” I answered. “But I’m not sure anyone knew that but us.” 
“Since that day Wade always makes sure we are all buckled up. He tells his younger brothers, ‘Matthew says always wear your seatbelt.’”

Until I heard Wade’s mom’s story I had always been skeptical of “visits” like the one he described. Just maybe this one was real. Maybe it comforted Wade. I know it comforted me.