It's the call no wife or mother wants to get. I was one of the lucky ones-the voice on the other end of the line belonged to my husband, not a police officer, doctor or nurse. Chad started out with "I'm OK." Clearly, that was not entirely true. When you're calling from the ER half drugged on Vicodan and waiting for the xray report, "OK" is a relative term. But a few words of explanation and we both knew just how lucky we were. The morning commute could have ended in unspeakable tragedy. Instead, time and a good surgeon will have him back to normal in several weeks.

I don't ride motorcycles. I have been a passenger on occasion, but all in all I leave that up to Chad, and his riding companions. He's a smart rider. Helmet, leather, gloves--all standard gear. On this particular morning he was on is way to work--not exactly a leisurely, picturesque journey across the countryside. Crossing over the Ohio River, limited shoulder room, rush-hour traffic, and suddenly the lead car slams the brakes and those following react in kind. Faced with the option of colliding with the car in front of him and taking a chance on his flying skills, or laying the bike down and hoping his landing was soft, he opted for the ground path. 50 feet of sliding later, when things stopped spinning, it was a good choice.

The Concours is scratched up but fixable. Helmets can be replaced, as can leather jackets. The knuckles of the gloves are pretty much gone, and he has one very odd burn on his right hand that seems to have been cauterized immediately by the heat of the friction. Bruises appear daily, and I have serious suspicions that the lump on his ribcage should not be there. Chad aches in muscles he didn't know he had. The fractured clavicle is the biggest hurdle, but an excellent orthopedic surgeon will address that on Monday, and therapy starts next week.

My mind frequently goes to what could have been. I try not to let it stay there. The what-ifs are too terrifying to dwell on. I am indebted to the Newport EMT's and police officers, and to the driver who stopped in time to avoid hitting a fallen biker, jumped out of his car and stayed on the scene. I extend sincere thanks to the St. Elizabeth Fort Thomas ED staff for their care and concern. We have been touched by so many people reaching out in kindness to help with whatever we may need.

Every day I thank God for having his hand on that motorcycle, for guiding Chad along that highway. I will forever be grateful that the voice on the other end of the phone belonged to the one person who holds my heart in his own, and on this day, by the grace of God, he could say "I'm OK."