His shaking voice told me to hurry. My one comfort was that he was able to call and the news wasn't from a nurse or an officer.
On the way home, I stopped at the scene of the accident trying to find his new prescription glasses. Shattered glass was mingled with broken reflectors and a headlamp. I didn't find his glasses, but in the rubble, sparkling to be noticed, was a heart shaped piece of windshield.
I'm a grateful wife, thankful for the miracle, grateful that the sacred was not torn from my hand.