Too Shaken to Think of a Clever Title
I should start by saying he’s OK. So am I. I promised him I wouldn’t tell his grandparents about this, so you can’t either.
We went for an evening walk after dinner. We had a nice time tromping through the neighborhood. Lucas occasionally sprinted ahead a short distance; Asher manfully followed after him. Ian and I lagged behind a bit, enjoying our first chance to talk to each other since about 8 this morning. We said hi to people and dogs out walking. We meandered through the neighborhood school.
When we were heading home and on the school grounds, it was dusk, that time of day when it’s hard to see. We looked up and realized Lucas wasn’t with us. I thought he had ducked behind a tree, or maybe the big trash dumpsters. Maybe the backstop for the baseball diamond. We called out. No answer. I thought he was going to jump out to surprise us, try to scare us. We looked in those places. No Lucas.
Ian walked ahead. I stayed with Asher. By this point, I was calling, shouting loudly. “Lucas, this isn’t funny. I’m getting angry! Come out NOW!” No answer. Asher shouted Lucas’s name over and over with all his might. It was just a few minutes from dark. We walked back toward home.
I didn’t exactly panic. I didn’t run in circles or shriek or tear my hair. I did feel my blood boil, however. I also began cataloging sights and sounds around me. I searched my memory: Did any windowless white vans drive by us? What is he wearing?
I thought, he must have gone ahead. What the hell?!
Ian found Lucas at home. Read him the riot act. When I turned onto our street, Lucas was walking quickly toward me, arms outstretched, and crying. He knew he was in trouble. I managed not to raise my voice. I hugged him to me and told him he must never, never, never do that again. That he scared me. That it is never OK to run off without permission. That it was dark and I couldn’t find him. I clutched him tightly while he cried.
He is embarrassed. He knows he messed up big-time. He said he just wanted to go home and go to bed, but I think he said that because he thought it would make it all OK. I think he really just lost himself in the moment, in the feeling of running, of being fast.
April 16, 2009 at 1:20 am
Oh! That’s every parent’s nightmare! I’m glad he is ok and hope that he learned a very valuable lesson.
April 16, 2009 at 2:08 am
It’s the scariest thing in the world. So much so that you have flashbacks when other people talk about it. And though I wouldn’t wish it on anyone, I have to admit that these are the moments when your priorities are most clear, when your love is the most tangible. And you realize that you did something insanely stupid in giving your heart to a tiny creature that doesn’t know how to protect it. And you wouldn’t change a thing. The true definition of faith, in my world, is letting a child grow up.
April 16, 2009 at 2:10 am
And, by the way, you handled it just right.
April 16, 2009 at 9:43 am
You describe that 6-year-old dream place so well, knowing that sweep of being fast and losing yourself in a beautiful run to your doorstep.
You handle these things so beautifully, and they sound so scary. Thank you and Ian for being the parents you are.
I love you, and I hope last night’s rest made things better, too.
April 16, 2009 at 9:48 am
Man, that’s never fun. I remember that from both sides. Getting lost and realizing I’m in the soup and being with my mom when my sister was suddenly nowhere to be found. It’s like a crashing orchestral chord in the back of the head when I think of it, that moment of realization that I’m lost or I’ve lost someone. Yikes. Glad everyone’s OK.
April 16, 2009 at 12:02 pm
Wow. Thanks for telling us and I promise not to bring it up with Lucas. I remember getting in trouble for that as I kid and I thought I was just in trouble for not following the rules. Until I read this I never thought about what I put my parents through. And not having kids myself I’m sure I can’t fully imagine the everlasting hell that those minutes were. Yikes.
April 16, 2009 at 12:40 pm
Sounds harrowing! Thanks for starting off by saying he’s okay. Even knowing that I was getting anxious just reading about it.
This reminds me of the first time I went on a business trip with my boss. We were standing in the lobby of the hotel and she said “we’ll meet down here at 8:00 tomorrow morning.” So I show up at 8:00 in the lobby and wait, and wait some more. She finally storms in from outside and is like “what are you doing sitting in here?” And I was like, “you said to meet down here!” and she wanted to know why I hadn’t gone outside looking for her.
I was dumbfounded, because everybody knows you don’t leave the building without the person you’re with! Because that was the rule when I was a kid.
April 16, 2009 at 2:40 pm
Wow, my heart goes out to you.I’m sure he learned a valuable lesson about communication. I also loved the way you handled the situation- you let him know though he did something he was still loved.
April 16, 2009 at 3:32 pm
I couldn’t have said it better.