Friday, October 30, 2009


As a parent, there are times that your heart simply jumps into your throat.

When your child does not get off the school bus you have been waiting for.

The first time they drive off in your car without you.

Their first date, or dance, or year at college.

Having a child is having your heart live outside of your body.

Last night, my son got to experience that sensation.

I had told him I was going to be at a church meeting Thursday evening, and I even had put it on the family calendar.

However, my husband decided at the last moment to also attend this same meeting.

So our son came home to an empty house - no note from us about where we were - and only one car gone (which somehow threw the world every more off balance).

And the dogs refused to tell him where we had gone to.

He called our cell phones (which were both off since we were at the church) - called his sisters - the state highway patrol - he even called the emergency room at the hospital just to make certain we hadn't been in some horrible massacre or terrorist attach (which would have been masochist bliss for his dad, that's for sure).

Poetic justice... at last.