Let me tell you, I have a newfound respect for "paranoid" parents. I am not yet a parent myself, so sometimes it's hard for me to differentiate between being overprotective and just plain protective. But that all pretty much changed for me yesterday.
Here's a little background info that will better relate to you what I felt with what occurred yesterday. My parents divorced when I was 4, and I subsequently went into shock for a year and hardly spoke to anyone, or so I was diagnosed. For years I wouldn't even hug people and shyed away from physical contact, which probably had something to do with my father and both grandfathers being abusive drunks. At any rate, it was just me and Mom for a long time, though we lived on and off with different family members, most of them being aunts and cousins.
When I was about 6 or 7 Mom started dating a younger man she worked with. He had pursued her for months and wouldn't take no for an answer. Oddly enough he was younger than I am now when he started dating my mother. She was 30 and he was I believe 23. He loved my mother. I resented him of course, but we learned to live with each other.
When I was 15 I finally was no longer an only child as my little brother, Zach, was born. It was the happiest time in my life. I had always wanted a brother, and now I had this little bald guy. But things wouldn't stay happy for long. 3 months after my brother was born his father passed away at the age of 32 from clogged arteries. I remember the day as clear as crystal. My mom and I had a bad feeling as Tony was having pains. We tried to convince him to go to the doctor, but he wouldn't, so he went to work. Later that evening I was babysitting my brother and I got a call from the hospital. They wouldn't tell me anything. It was the absolute worst day in my life up to that point. The only thing that has topped it so far is the day my Nana died almost a year later on the girl I was infatuated with's birthday, but that's a story for another time.
So fast forward a few years, my mom gets injured at work and because of some uncaring family members and situations she wasn't able to complete treatments to get workman's comp. So I elected to stay home and help out since it was just the three of us. Things have been rough, but I'm not one to complain, so we'll leave it at that.
At present I still live with my mother and brother, who is now 13. Luckily my mother has finally been able to get a couple of home business things going and for her at least things are starting to look up. It's a long road, but she deserves it. My brother is a handful as most teenagers are. And he's so different from me now. Growing up we were best friends. He didn't have a father, nor did I for all purposes of what a father is supposed to be, and I was so much older than him that he clung to me. We were practically inseperable. For the first two or three years of his life Mom worked and I stayed with him as I was already out of highschool at the point (which is yet another story for another time). So suffice it to say my brother and I are very close despite the fact we are into different things now and butt heads on occassion.
So this brings me to the events of yesterday, November 4th, 2005, 4 days before what would be my brother's father's birthday, and a day that changed my outlook on life entirely.
My brother walks home from school right now because our car is down. It's not far and usually takes him about 10-15 minutes. The neighborhood is a busy one and there are always a lot of people around, so he's pretty safe. There are other kids that walk part of the way with him. Usually, unless his grandmother or aunt on his father's side pick him up, he gets home between 4 and 4:15, depending on whether or not he stops at Dairy Queen and gets a pop. Today I watched for him out the window from 3:55 to 4:35 and then I started to worry. Normally I wouldn't because his aunt or grandmother would have picked him up to take him out to eat. However, at approximately 4:35 his aunt called wanting to take him out to eat. Then I knew he wasn't with them, and he had never been this late unless that was the case. I was a little freaked, but I stayed calm. I called around to make sure he hadn't mentioned he was going to a friend's house or something. No luck. My mom was in transit with no phone, so I couldn't ask her. About 5 I really start to panic and I take off walking, stopping in places he goes to at times, like Dairy Queen, asking if they had seen him. His appearance is pretty distinctive with bushy, curly dirty brown hair, so they'd know. Noone had seen him. I was really freaked now. So I walk back home hoping and praying I had somehow missed him, but he wasn't there. So I start calling again and trying to get ahold of my mother. Then I break down and start crying a praying. I've never felt fear like that in my life, and I've been in some pretty scary situations, believe me. Again, more stories for the future.
Mom gets home about that time and I fill her in. She and my aunt, who she's riding with, take off in the car to see if they can find him. Mom's of course freaked out, and I'm wigging. About 5 minutes later the doorbell rings. It's his aunt on his father's side. Apparently he had called his grandmother, who is on outs with my mom because she accused us of a lot of stuff that's just ridiculous, who was supposed to relay the message to us that he had went to his friend, Hannah's house. This was about 5:55, nearly two hours later than I expected him home and two hours after his grandmother had been called and had been aware of where he was. I was relieved, livid and frustrated, and a bunch of other emotions all at once. When my brother got home I hugged him hard and then my mother and I had a LONG talk with him.
It was the scariest situation I have ever faced in my life, to almost lose someone I loved so much. I can understand and sympathize even better with parents worldwide now. I've always been sensitive and all that, but this took me to a whole new level. My kids are gonna hate me I'm gonna be so overprotective now. lol.
In all seriousness though, everyone's okay, and lessons have been learned by all. In this world you can never be too sure of anything, and you can't trust anyone or anything anywhere near completely. There's a scripture that states "the arm of flesh will fail you", whether that be people you know, people you don't know, or your own self. We are not perfect creatures and we can't trust situations, circumstances, routines, assumptions or anything else to the degree of complete certainty. We have to be careful and weigh everything lest we make the fatal mistake of overlooking or underestimating somethng that costs us a price we aren't ready to pay. This is coming from someone that generally casts off worry as a needless and pointless waste of time because we can't change things anyway. I am wrong in that respect, because there are many things we can change before we get to the point where worrying is an issue.
Anyway, I just wanted to share with you all my life-altering experience and maybe bring some awareness to us all. We all take for granted many things in life, one being the people we love. I for one am going to do my best to not let that happen again, though inveritably it will. But not nearly as often and not nearly as much. I'm not perfect, but I'll keep improving and growing for as long as I live. At least that's the plan.
B-Out