
Today I woke to the sounds of sirens.
Fire trucks, police cars, an ambulance.
I assumed there was a fire down the street.
But I am still sick and I stepped back into dreamland.
The sounds faded.
David stayed home again to care for Em while I went to the doctors.
They were at the park down the street for about an hour when the doorbell rang.
It was the Police.
He asked if I had a Mazda.
My heart stopped.
I answered yes. I told him my husband took my daughter to the park.
He said he knew the car was there. I was confused.
He wanted to know if I had a son.
I said yes.
He wanted to know what he was wearing, if I saw him get on the bus, where he went to school. If he had a skateboard.
I was more confused. Did they think he started the fire this morning?
David came home and the police officer questioned him and left us wondering...
What was going on?
I called the school.
Liam was safe.
But it turns out there was a child who was not safe. They found his body down our street. Near the park. A boy who wore khaki pants and a button down shirt. He rode a skateboard.
Anyone's child.
Only the police did not know where he called home. Who he called Mom. And they were searching to tell someone that their child was gone.
It just makes me ill to think about it. That they thought it was Liam. That they saw my husband's car near the park and assumed it was the boy's car. And came to our house.
And to every one's house in our neighborhood who has a son.
Searching.
And while I am so thankful it was not my child, I am so sad for the family of the boy who was so hurt inside that he couldn't see a way out. I am praying for that family today.