Diarrhea of the brain

I have been thinking non-stop the last few days, and we all know where that leads - toward the emotional roller coaster state I am currently in. As you know from previous posts, laying my emotions out there seems to calm me, so here goes.

There was a trigger to this most recent episode of non-stop thinking and it was all over the news. If you watch/read the news, the following story will be old to you, if it even registered for you at all. Trust me, it registered for me. Hard.

There was an escaped murder convict from a Michigan prison who kidnapped a woman in Middlebury (the town where Bailey currently goes for dance class). As if this weren't close enough, they found the stolen car the next day (this past Monday) in Shipshewana (where Bailey currently goes to school). You know, the tiny little half-Amish community that has a very strong Christian base.

Here's the news story if you need a refresher. I'm going to be honest and tell you I didn't even read it. I just know it's from CNN and probably just as reliable as any other source.

While at the high school, I heard wind that all LaGrange County schools were on external lockdown. In reality, this is nothing different than normal. Many of the news stations made it sound like we were in a crouched position hiding from the "bad guy" all afternoon. Not true. It just meant that no one was in or out without verification of who they were and even then they were escorted. The doors were locked, but then they always are. Normal activity was happening, at least at the high school. Still, my nerves were on edge knowing that this man, wherever he was at the current time, had been close to Bailey's school. I wanted her bad. I was a wreck on the inside but trying to keep a calm face so I didn't freak out any students.

As soon as I saw her after the schools finally released (Bailey was escorted by an armed police officer, along with the rest of her class), I squeezed her like you can only imagine. I didn't want to let go.

Now let's tone down the drama a little bit. Looking back, there was likely no real danger to her or any of the students. In all likelihood, the man was long gone and had posed no real threat. That didn't stop the little seed of fear from growing, especially when Bailey said, "there were police officers all the way around our school."

I held it together on the outside all evening. The teachers did GREAT and Bailey didn't even realize there was any threat until I told her (very little) on the way home ... I don't know how much I would have said at all if she hadn't been scheduled to go to a friend's house to play that night and kept asking why she couldn't. The students did what they thought was a practice drill and then stayed in their rooms and resumed their activities as well.

On the inside, I was barely holding up. I had a little panic attack, complete with chest pain, and then crashed in bed after the kids were down for the night. I woke up the next morning telling myself it was all over and all good and I had my babies and that's all that mattered. And then I broke.

I had ugly-crying, body-wracking sobs for a good 5 minutes and have been on the verge of tears ever since.

I also had a little epiphany: if there is faith strong enough to erase the fear of losing my children, I don't have it. Period.

Enter another 5 minute session of sobbing.

Then I thought, "maybe I don't have to have faith THAT strong. Maybe I only have to have faith strong enough to get me through the day, even if that means taking it one minute at a time." And that's how I got up and made it through the day.

I am well aware that fear makes a person irrational. I would never claim to be above that truth. For example, I really didn't want Bailey to go to school the next day. Rational? Not at all. They had caught the man that same night in LaPorte (3 counties West of here), and as I said earlier, there was probably no real danger to her anyway. But the fear was there.

I did send Bailey to school that day and kept myself so busy I didn't have more time to worry about it. However, something that hits that close to home leaves its mark, and I have been thinking deep thoughts ever since.

Michael, as some of you may know, was named after Tony's friend from high school who was killed in an accident their Senior year. I don't know if it's because of this fact that I do it or not, but I pray every day that I never have to experience the loss of either of my children. I can't imagine what would be worse. Having lost my good friend Holli to an accident as well only serves to enhance that fear. Most days, I can keep it in check and just enjoy the days. Even now, when my kids are awake and loud and funny or even in trouble, my fear doesn't override my ability to enjoy them. But it's there, and certain things do trigger it. Monday's events make that clear as a bell.

So here's what I'm asking of you, my readers. Give the people you love a little extra squeeze tonight. Do something a extra special for them. Improve the world, one day at a time, one person at a time. Make the world a little less scary.