wafted up the stairs to greet me in my tub. Something was definitely burning or brewing. I was tempted to run down the stairs, with or without my towel to put my maternal blanket over what I knew was the dangerous combination of minds interacting without supervision on the floor below me.
I mustered my composure and called them, at first, sweetly and then with more and more command in my voice and when no answers rallied, I became alarmed. Okay, you are in your towel. You are not even dry yet. Is this alarming enough to disturb hubby's prayertime? What a fool you will look like if it isn't. It took me a minute or two to decide to call him. He ran down the stairs and they were gone.
Both boys gone at 7 or so in the morning? Where could they have been?
Thank God, we live in a safe neighborhood, with caring neighbors around. That took alot of the fear and intensity out of the emotional upheaval. They could be anywhere!
By the time he came back up, for the third or fourth time I was just thawing out of the daze of shock that had overtaken me, searching my mind from stem to stern to see the possibilities of danger that they could be in. I was absolutely no help at all. Just grief stricken at the possibilities.
It took a few minutes... but they were in the car. I don't know how he found them, I just know that Ethan's expressions of crocodile tears at the possibility of being reproved intensely for causing us emotional disturbance was not sufficient to me.
They are found and I think that the time in instruction that Ben took with them was helpful to give them sensitivity to the emotional delicacy of their mother and possibly, their father.
Grief can unite or divide and often does both.
Kids today think in microwave speed compared to their parents, however will we keep up?
No comments:
Post a Comment