I’m a mess. I keep crying randomly. And different things pop in to my head, like, “his little body was dragged on the pavement…” or, “I shouldn’t have been so far in front of him…” and I just lose it. I just can’t express enough how grateful I am that he’s not more seriously hurt. I really believe an angel must have been wrapped around him.
When I think about how close I came to losing Eric, I can’t even breathe.
I honestly don’t know how a parent recovers from losing a child. I know they do, I know it’s possible, but it’s inconceivable at this point.
When we were staying at The Grand Floridian for the Disney Social Media Moms conference, there were about 3 seconds when Brian and I thought Eric had fallen off the 5th floor balcony. We kept trying to keep the kids off the balcony, but we were distracted with packing, and they kept sneaking back out there. The walls were pretty high, but they easily stood on chairs to look over the top of the wall. We heard a **THUNK** and Brian said, “WHERE’S ERIC?”
I looked out on the balcony, and I only saw Anna. These are the thoughts that raced through my head during the three seconds it took me to get from the bed to out on the balcony:
No no no no no. Maybe he wasn’t out there.No, he just passed me, he was out there. Maybe there’s another landing below our balcony, and he landed on that. No, I don’t think there was. Is there any way a human being could survive a fall from a 5th floor balcony? Maybe a miracle kept him alive? If I look over the edge, will he be laying on the ground way down there? Maybe he wasn’t out there.
I made it to the balcony, and he was in the corner, obscured by the curtain from inside. The THUNK was him falling off his chair into the wall of our room. We got both kids back inside, and Brian and I looked at each other, shaking our heads. I’m shaking my head now. That terror of what might have been has haunted me since March. I had a hard time even writing about the conference, because I kept thinking about what almost happened to Eric.
I know it doesn’t make sense to dwell on what could have – but didn’t – happen, but we already live in terror as parents, right? Our most important job IN THE WORLD is keeping these kids safe. There are all kinds of other jobs that fall in line after that, like “help them be good humans” and “educate them.” But the most important one is certainly, “keep them alive.”
Whenever I think about that balcony incident, I have a visceral reaction. I shake my head and put my hands in front of my face, and take a step backward. Brian is similarly haunted by a time he took the kids hiking, and Eric fell off a cliff. He doesn’t know what happened exactly, just that one second he noticed Eric was losing his balance, and the next second he was on the ground, holding on to Eric’s jacket in one hand, and his t-shirt in the other, and sliding down the hill himself, grabbing for an arm. Fortunately neither of them were hurt, and they got back on the trail.
I’ve had this secret dark fear since March. That my son is on borrowed time. When I saw that car turning in to him and dragging him under, that’s what I thought. That my fears were coming true. I hesitate to even write that down, and I’ve never spoken it to anyone. Because I don’t want to manifest it. But here’s what I say. Clearly, an angel was wrapped around my son yesterday. So OK, Angel – You keep at it! Keep him alive! I will continue to do my best, but I really need you! Thankyouthankyouthankyou