Cannon, Kearns share a near tragic bond

What extraordinary life stories are now shared by Brendon Cannon and Phil Kearns. In October 2005, Kearns backed over his 19-month old daughter, Andie, in his driveway, leaving her in a critical condition from which, thankfully, she fully recovered.

Last week, Brendon Cannon ran over his 15-month old son, Sam, in identical sickening circumstances. Luckily, and against the odds, it seems little Sam will recover, too.

While their children’s fates hung in the balance, I kept thinking about both men and how they must have felt immediately after the accidents.

Are there words to describe their emotions? Probably not.

In the aftermath, as Brendon Cannon confirmed, both men will be haunted – nightmared – for the rest of their lives by the memories of what might have tragically been. Each time they look or hold those precious little children, they will thank God for sparing their tiny lives.

These were two of the very worst local news stories when they broke – and transformed into two of the very best when we learned that both children would make full recoveries.

There is nothing – absolutely nothing – worse than the prospect of losing a child. When my first son was born five weeks prematurely my wife and I were told that it was likely he would die.

“Get a priest, he’s not going to make it,” we were advised. “He’s not going to make it” – the words are burned into my brain to this day.

I remember sitting beside his little crib, tubes and wires hanging from him, and then helping the priest baptise him and administer the last rites.

He hung on, and on and on, each little breath pulling his skin tight on his ribcage. I stayed numbly beside my little man waiting for the inevitable, every so often putting my hand inside the humidicrib and holding his fingers.

I felt him softly grip my finger a couple of times, like a handshake hello – or goodbye. I prayed, and prayed and hoped and hoped: 24 hours; 48 hours, I sat there – and continued sitting there.

“If he makes it to 72 hours, he might survive,” we were told.

Almost on the 72nd hour, our brave little man changed colour, from deathly white to pink.
“Your son will live.”

Those words too are seared into my memory, the most beautiful words I have ever heard.

I know how Phil Kearns and his wife, and Brendon Cannon and his wife, must have felt when the same words would were spoken to them.

But again, there is no adequate way to describe the emotions that churn so vividly in your mind in those moments.