Scared

I wrote this last week, but I couldn't get myself to post it. The unknows were to many and the fear was to high. We now know who but will probably never know the why.

The smaller one is in bed, taking a much needed nap after “helping” raking leaves all morning. The bigger one is sitting on the living room floor playing video games. The video game that we use as an incentive and punishment for those green and red days at school. Green days is what we want…we will even work with yellow days, but one red and no video game that weekend. It has been a couple of weeks since he last played. He is learning and adjusting, making friends, reading full pages to us at bed time, wiping glue on classmates’ hair, skipping, conquering the monkey bars, bringing snack money so he can make his own choices, handing out baseball cards. He is growing up, but still so much a little boy…my baby.

And I just want to crawl over to the living room rug where he is sitting, fold myself around him, tightly, and never let go. Instead I sit here, listening to him explain the game to me, snickering at me when I don’t get it, smiling at him when he looks over. And I hope and pray that he cannot see the tears in my eyes, cannot hear the slight tremble in my voice.

I project calmness and confidence, and that is the mask I am wearing right now. The mask that he needs from me; “I got this, I am in charge and you do not need to worry about anything”, and I will be damned if he sees the other side, the side that is roaring with grief and anger.

But I am angry, so angry. It is the anger that is mixed with stifling fear and the;”please, please just make it go away” silent cries. The anger is easier to deal with it, driving away all other feelings. Kind of.  Making it a little easier to breathe.

Last night we took some of his innocence from him. We had to sit him down at the kitchen table and tell him that there are bad people in this world. We had to tell him that there is a bad person walking around right now trying to take little children. And there are certain things you need to know, certain things you need to be aware off, and if you ever end up in a situation, this is what you will do. We had decided before hand not to mention the word kill or death. He is too little and shouldn’t have to hear crap like that. And I am sad for him, sad that we have to do this, sad that we have to make him fearful, that he cannot linger in the bubble of safety for a little longer. To stay in the world of “Batman was the coolest superhero of all times yesterday, but today it is all about Spiderman, and he is awesome!” Where the greatest injustice imaginable is that his brother’s book was read last two nights in a row – watch and hear me wail!

I have fought this conversation tooth and nail. I knew the stranger danger conversation was inevitable, but I kept holding off, not wanting to put that on him. Not yet. But the scary was getting too close to our home and my hand was forced. The point that we kept repeating to him over and over again was;” it is mommy and daddy’s job to keep you and your brother safe.”  That despite everything we told him please understand that you are not carrying this on your shoulders, we are in charge. And we would not be doing our jobs if we didn’t prepare him for what is out there, to make him aware of certain dangers lurking.

It was so hard. Heartbreaking. He was scared and he cried. I hope we told him the right things, used the right words, did the right thing.  We promised him we would tell him as soon as the police found the bad guy; this seemed to help a little.

And I am keeping my eye on him, judging his emotional state, letting him talk about whatever is on his mind, letting him lead. He is such a sensitive boy and I am not sure how he is going to handle this one.

This fear is also mine. I am terrified. This ugly world is closing in on us, and I am letting it consume me. My mind cannot even formulate the “what if”. I can’t. It would destroy me and I don’t know if I would ever get up again. So I am trying to breathe through it, moving through the day, keeping with the chores at hand. Busy will keep my mind quiet.

Despite all this fear, today I am grateful. I have both my boys’ right here with me. And tonight I get to tuck them in, kiss their cheeks and tell them I love them.

And as I sit here in my selfish fear, I think of Jessica’s parents, of all the parents whose children never came home. And how can your heart not break, over and over again? Madness and evil robbed them of the chance to tuck their babies into the crooks of their necks, hold them tight and whisper;”it is alright, mommy is here!”

But today I can, and I will honor that. I will hold my big boy’s hand when he is scared, I will walk with him through the fear and hopefully come out lighter and laughing on the other end.  I will have this conversation with my little one when he is big enough to understand, I will let him cry and hold onto me tight. And until then I will not let either one out of my sight.

So for now, I keep the fear at bay. I hold them tight when they crawl into my arms. I kiss them gently at last bed check and leave the night light on, making sure the door is open for the middle-of-the-night-crawling-into-bed-with-mommy-and-daddy. I will tell them, and I will tell them again how much I love them, and my hand is always available for holding.