I found myself walking bus stop after bus stop, grasping one child’s hand while glimpsing every so often behind me to watch her boots gliding against the dirty city sidewalk. She tends to drag her steps a bit in her new Ugg boots so I always knew how many steps she was behind me. What a safety… knowing where she was.
Instead of jumping on the first bus we saw, I felt the need to walk it out, as if each step could somehow iron out the wrinkles of the day. Each time we crossed another street I could feel the adrenaline still pulsing within me, the energy surge I felt when I went to pick up my child from school and she wasn’t there. No one could find her.
Every parent’s worst nightmare. Running from room to room my mind kept chanting that she was there, she must be there. But no Hope. Nowhere. Panic dripped like a hot fudge sundae. Starting at my temples then slipping down my sides, the warm fear pooled at my feet with nowhere else to go. Soaked in the knowledge she was not in the building, I stiffened as if arming myself for battle when unexpectedly a face popped in the front door and said she took her.
Before I could ask why she removed my daughter from the school without my knowledge or why the school let her leave with someone who wasn’t allowed to take her, I flew down the sidewalk looking for my sweet child. There she was innocently playing as if nothing happened. I plopped down on a nearby stoop and just stared at her. Conversations swirled around me as I lost myself in the what-ifs and could-have-beens. I simply couldn’t catch my breath. Then I snapped back into the present.
In the past my immediate reaction would have been 100% fear - screaming, yelling, crying, accusing… you name it. This time I found myself breathing and trying to be aware. Not lost, aware. Feeling everything that was with me at that very moment. Before launching into 20 questions I tried to think. Instead of launching a full attack I tried to look at the situation from as many perspectives as possible. Less about who I could point the finger at and more about what can we take away from this gamut of mistakes.
At last we did hop the bus and make the last leg of our journey home. When the kids nestled into their beds for some reading, I meandered a bit outside our front door to let the late afternoon air cool me, just feeling the weight. My eyes kept watching their bedroom window for signs of life. My heart kept expressing gratitude for my babies safe at home. Crisis averted. Lesson learned.
After a friend told me to consider this a Ctrl+Alt+Delete situation, I enjoyed my first big smile of the day and even chuckled. A mulligan. A do-over. Go to bed and completely reboot. Tempting, but I have to admit I’ll take it just the way it happened. Destiny works that way, I believe it. This was divinely right. The ripple effect is at work. Quite possibly Hope needed that conversation so she made a different choice at a later date. Maybe the school needed to toughen security procedures before a child was harmed. Perhaps I needed to experience this just the way I did.