What if..

Nelson returned yesterday after a four night trip with his brother. It's always hard for me when he's gone. Now that I have three little ones, it's even harder. But I've learned to deal with it and manage to get by just fine on my own.

In fact, while he's gone I usually have a moment or two when I think, "Hey, I really can do this by myself." Granted, I don't prefer it or even like it, but for some reason it gives me peace of mind...just in case.

All that flew out the window yesterday morning. I was expecting his plane to come in to Atlanta around midnight and thought he'd told me he'd be home in the wee hours of Sunday morning. I looked forward in anticipation to feeling him climb into bed that night. In fact, I couldn't sleep. I watched a movie until 1 a.m. and then tossed and turned for awhile after that.

When I heard Dawson calling me at 7 a.m. Sunday morning, I rolled over to find myself alone in the bed. I walked into Dawson's room and set him up in front of Dora. Then I searched the house and looked out the window to find the driveway empty.
Okay. Still doing fine. This is not unusual I told myself. He probably pulled off the road to sleep and just got too comfortable. I called his phone and got no answer. It's okay. He'll be here soon.

8 a.m. came and went and still no Nelson. I called again. No answer. Now I was mad. Why does he do this to me? Why can't he know he's going to have a late night, get some extra sleep, and get himself home? It's broad daylight now. Where is he?

I began to get ready for church. Then, I got the kids ready for church. It was 9 a.m. and still no Nelson. I called again. I sent a text message. No response. Now I was worried...really worried. It's not like him to just not show up. It's hours and hours past when he said he'd be here. His phone is not working.

My mind began playing evil tricks on me. I envisioned a knock on the door with a policeman waiting outside. The phone rang and I thought I'd hear an unfamiliar, "Are you Mrs. Parris?" My heart started racing. My mind was jumping all over the place.

I didn't know what to do. I didn't know why this was happening. I tried to stay calm for the kids but I was on the verge of calling the police myself. It makes me crazy to think about it even now.

Then I heard it. The familiar squeak of the brakes and slam of the car door. The key turning the kitchen lock and the footsteps on the floor. "Daddy!" Mackenzie squealed.

I was frozen. I couldn't look up. I couldn't move. He came in as if nothing had happened. "Where were you?" my voice squeaked as the tears came to my eyes.

He didn't understand. Apparently, he had known all along he was coming home at this hour and had just been really unclear with me. His phone had died and he didn't want to stop to call for fear of missing the chance to go to church with us.

I collapsed. I was exhausted. It took me hours to recover. I spent mass on the verge of tears, thinking about what would have happened if...

I don't want to ever feel that way again. As independent as I pretend that I am, I cannot do this by myself. I need him. I want him. I am so glad he came home.