I Lost Our Kid

Every parent has been there. You are in a public place, look away for a moment and they are gone. Its one of the stories you hear repeatedly though your life, the time when you went missing. It's usually played off with laughing years later but everyone knows the terror of those moments. Leo is my sweet, fearless boy. I strive at times for a label for him. I say he is on an IEP or he has stuff. But there is no one word to describe him. My father calls him Leo MaDeO The Real Deal. Maybe that says it better than anything, he is the real deal. He does everything full in, no fear, no pause, no limitations, just go. At his IEP conference last week they said “Leo may be one of those kids that needs movement to learn. It's something to watch for.” But all I wanted to do was look at them and say, “Did you hear me? I lost our kid.” Desperate for suggestions from his team on how to keep him safe. I can’t think about learning right now.

Just two days earlier when I left Leo sitting in a chair surrounded by family in a large suburban mall he went missing. He had vanished sitting next to everyone. I had left him for three minutes but the family I left him with did not KNOW Leo. They did not know how fast he could move, how he can bult, how clumsy and fearless he is. They did not know how much he is the Real Deal to which always means being ongard. You don’t relax, make any assumptions that he will do anything, not even something as simple as he will stay in his chair. I scanned the group with my eyes. “Uh oh, where is Leo.” I ask.

I begin. The frantic movements of a mother's body. Scan the crowd. Look under tables, around corners, look, ask, “Did you see a little boy?” But minutes passed and I realized this was my story. He was not just under the table or had wandered to a candy machine. He was gone. I look at this guy in a kiosk who is wanting to sell me something, I make eye contact and he starts his monologue. Interrupting I say, “Please call security, I lost our kid.” I begin to slowly spin, scanning frantically. He tries to get my attention, “Miss I need a description. Miss what does your kid look like?” I respond, I give just enough information and I start to run.

Where would he go? Maybe the toy store. Run there, scan every child, no Leo. Maybe the play area, no Leo. Maybe the ice cream shop, no Leo. I continue running the mall full of people on a Saturday afternoon. Darting bodies and at times running into people. I wondered what they thought, can’t you see I am mother who is frantically searching, it does not really need explanation or a request to help. You know my face. But no one stops me, no one says let me help you. My aunt running in different directions and now security. I see security in every direction. True panic. So many people looking now but no one is finding him.

I keep running back to the location we were sitting, where the rest of the kids are sitting with my Uncle, in the case he had been found. No Leo. I throw my purse on the table and prepare to run faster. Then the thought came, the thought that controls all parents minds in these moments, what if we can’t find him because someone took him. I turn around and run to the closest exit to where we were sitting. I scan the people walking to and from there cars, a police car sits and I think I should tell them. He announces “Yes, I know. I am watching here.” Horror hits knowing that the police are thinking the same thing I am. They are watching everyone going in and out of the building.

MYAH RUN!, says my mind. I go back in. Security stops me for a further description. Why would they ask a mother to stop moving? I needed to catch my breath unable to speak. Description given. Why are they not running too? RUN, search. Why still has no one asked to help me look? Don’t they remember? I think these were the same halls I walked as a teen, laughing with friends, shopping, escaping the cold, the hub of social interaction. You know me!

The thoughts continued, this is how it happens? This is how the first stage of a parent's worst nightmare happens. Soon I will be standing, sitting, unable to run, waiting to hear something. Why are they not putting something over the intercom. Find security. There is one, run to him. “Can we please put a call out, turn the music off?”

“Miss we have him.” My steps slow and I wait to hear it again. “We have him. He is okay. They are bringing him to the rotunda.” Talking over security radios. “I have the mother, we are coming your way.”

I turn the corner and there he is smiling getting a badge sticker. I think wow this guy must have kids, he is good with Leo. The security guard holding his socks. Why is holding his socks? In slow motion I pick him up and fall against the wall, sinking to the ground, tears now. He looks at me and says, “Mom where have you been, I was looking for you?” I think but can not say, my boy, I was looking for you! I can only say, “Where were you?”. He announced he had wanted to go play. The officer hands over his socks and explains he was in a different toy store all the way on the other side of the mall playing on a slide with his shoes and socks off.

I make eye contact with no one but hear distant voices explain they had all been there. My body shaking, my tears flowing, the people looking, my Leo as calm as always, unalarmed. “Buddy you can’t do that. Do you see how scared Mama is? You have to stay with me.” He softly places his hand on my face, “I am sorry mama, I’m okay.”  I sat there as my aunt now finds me with him, her face goes from terror to relief, to empathy as she sees me crumbled. I think, I guess I should have told you he bults. I guess I should have told you who he is.

The rest of the day I walked in a cloud, numb. The words echoed in my head, “I lost our kid.” Every parents been there but I felt like no one could see me. No one could see that I was still running. Later I had to look Jake in the eyes and explain that, “I lost our kid today.” I was full of guilt and feelings of failure. Failing to do the most basic of tasks, keep track of our kids. In the days that followed I was still exhausted from running, not physically but my being was tired. I had a panic attack in the Denver airport, how do I not lose him here?

I look at Leo now and realize I can never keep him safe. He is a full time job, countless times have I saved his life. I know there's no label, there is no way to explain to a person. Leo does everything with his full being. Just as he is fearless in his actions, he loves without pause. He trusts without stipulation. Be calm my heart, you can not try to contain water because its path is its own. Ride the current with him. Find the calm in the never ending motion. Be calm my heart. He is here now.