Love and Horror

I was reading DaMomma this morning, about a heart-stopping moment when her 5-year-old just dashed out in front of a car. God, they are so fragile, these children that we love with our whole beings and will protect with our lives. Once you become a parent, the world is at once far more beautiful, full of surprises and wonder, and far, far more menacing.

We had our own moment last week: we lost Child for the first (and please, please the last) time.

Just like in DaMomma's story, it happened in a moment. We'd taken Child to a concert at the local big theater, and had gone down to have a cookie and drinks at intermission. We were tucked in a corner of the crowded lobby, enjoying our treats, until they flicked the lights. "Okay, sweetie, time to go back to our seats!" I said. I turned back to make sure Husband was behind us, and then turned around again.

She was gone. Just...not there. I guess she'd taken me literally and started marching off to our seat without waiting for me, and the crowd had closed in behind her. I looked back to husband, puzzled, the panic just starting to rise. "Where is she?" I said cautiously. He looked back at me, astonished. I dashed forward down the little hallway; no pink dress, no blonde hair. I looked right, left. No children at all.

"Where IS she?" I demanded.

"What do you mean where is she? Where did she go?" he said. I just shook my head, fully panicking now, looking every which way. No sign of her.

"She must have gone ahead!"

"You go up to the seats," he said quickly. "I'll stay here and look."

Oh my God. I ran up the ramp, asking every usher as I passed. "Did a little girl come this way by herself? Have you seen a little girl?" Nothing. I pelted up the second ramp, around the corner. Nothing. All the way to the end. Could she have come this way all by herself? I went into the theatre part, up to our seats. No one. Now I understood what they mean by "my heart was in my throat." I couldn't swallow, couldn't think of anything but Where is She. I've lost her.

I ran back down the ramp full speed, around the corner again...

and saw them coming towards me, Husband with Child in hand. I nearly cried right there, in front of all the well-dressed people. Instead I snatched her up. "Where were you?" I demanded. "Where was she?"

Apparently she'd gone the wrong way, into the main section of the theatre instead of up the ramp to the balcony. And fortunately--this is a small town--she'd immediately run into someone she knew, who'd taken her gently by the hand back to wating Daddy in the lobby. The whole thing had probably taken 3 minutes. The longest 3 minutes of my life so far.

Loving that much makes you vulnerable. I would never give up that love, even at the cost of vulnerability, even with that terrifying tangle of emotions that I felt when she just went the wrong way. But I'll admit that I hope I don't have that particular horrible feeling again.

(Oh, and it's snowing this morning!)

Medieval Word of the Day: radly: Quickly, promptly, without delay, soon.