Dear Diary… what a week! (Oh, Michael Scott…) But, seriously, it’s 2pm, and I’m already exhausted from the events of my day. This Sunday morning began super early when I woke up to have coffee with a friend from high school/college who was just in town for the day before deploying to Iraq. After mochas and catching up, I headed home with just enough time to get ready to leave for church. Part of the way through my Sunday Best preparation, one of my two favorite neighbor girls knocked on the door and asked me if I’d seen her lil sister (my other favorite). I hadn’t so she skipped away and said she’d come back and bake cookies with me after church. Not thinking it was a huge deal I went back to getting ready only to have their dad knock on my door a few minutes later. Within the span of mere moments, the situation had escalated from casual “Is Mya here?” to a worried “Mya’s missing, and I can’t find her.” I grabbed my keys, phone and shoes and started looking with him.

For the next 45 minutes I knocked on every door in our complex where there were kids, and he searched for her throughout the rest of the grounds. We had kids on bikes riding along the streets, and as each minute passed, I grew more and more afraid of where this three-year old could have possible disappeared to. After looking in every possible place, the dad called the 911 as I kept searching. By this time, we were frantic, and more than a few tears had escaped. Just as we saw the first officer pull up and head over to speak to us, her curly-haired head peaked up over the railing as she yelled at me, “Hey, Lohra, we’re watching a movie.” I can’t even explain the sense of relief that washed over me as she skipped down and hopped in my arms. I yelled to her dad that we had found her and watched as his 6’4 frame sunk to the ground exhausted and in tears. The next few moments flew by as I carried her to her distraught father and delivered the news her mom that she had been found. Apparently, before the mom had left to go grocery shopping Mya had said that she was going over to another neighbor’s house to watch a movie, and when we had called and knocked on that neighbor’s door, they couldn’t hear anything from the back room over the television.

Realizing their dad needed some time to compose himself and deal with the police, I rounded up the kids and headed to my apartment to feed them lunch. After lemonade and Mac & Cheese, I put the movie Freaky Friday on as Mya curled up in my lap as if nothing had ever happened. Eventually, my hands stopped shaking and heart slowed down, and we all settled into a relieved lull. Halfway through the movie, she sat up, turned around, put both of her hands on the side of my face and whispered to me, “Ya know, Lohra… I was just watching a movie. You didn’t have to get so scared.” Then, she gave me a huge hug and kiss on the cheek before settling back down. It took everything within me to not tear up again just at thinking about not having her smiles and hugs all the time.

My parents lost Zac on multiple occassions when he was younger due to his need to run and be free at all times, and I remember the feeling of being the older sister wondering and worrying where he was. As much as I love him and would give anything for him, that feeling was nothing like that feeling of losing a child as an adult, and while I know that’s part of parenting and having kids, I can’t help but wonder if I’m ready for it…