THIS CAN'T BE HAPPENING

July fifth was one of those windy beach days where you come back from the beach cold but still sticky from the salt blowing around in the air. I was walking back to my bungalow with my youngest daughter Sarah and her friend Krissy in tow. Erin was still at the beach with Krissy's mom and her two other kids. Thomas and my husband Tom had taken advantage of the wind and planned on spending the entire afternoon on our sailboat. The only thing on my mind was a hot shower. I could almost feel the warmth of the water washing all the salt away.

I glanced down the street and saw my husband approaching. Hmmm, I guess sailing wasn't so great and he decided not to sail all the way to the bridge. Strangely, I remember first looking at his feet and wondering why they were moving so fast. As my gaze slowly worked its way up his body I could see how fast he was moving. Not a run but a purposeful, brisk pace. When my eyes reached his face I immediately knew something was wrong. In a moment I could see everything, his drenched clothes, the pain in his expression, the knowledge that something terrible had happened. Things became surreal. And I screamed "what happened to HIM". But it wasn't a real scream. More of a primal wail, not hysterical like you might expect. I remember thinking, whose voice is this? Was it agony or anger making it sound that way? Where was MY son? Was he dead? It was only later that I realized he was not MY son but OUR son? My first reaction was based only on a pure and primitive maternal instinct. I needed to protect my son, but it was too late. I was helpless. Unable to change what had already happened. As every mother does, I imagined the worse. The possiblilities came shooting through my mind like bullets.

Almost immediately my husband held up his hands and said "he's alright". Mercifully, he gave me the knowledge that Thomas was alive but my adrenaline rush would not allow me to slow down. I began to drill him with questions. Was he in the hospital? If he's not in the hospital is he in the house? My panic was mixed with confusion. I couldn't stop until I knew where he was.

The wind had picked up almost as soon as they began sailing. Without even making it acrossed the bay once my husband decided that they should abandon their journey. Before he even tried to turn around he knew it would be difficult. As it turned out, it would be impossible. Trying to turn five times resulted in capsizing the sailboat three times. The ropes became hopelessly tangled. A passing boater stopped to assist them. Thomas was getting tired and cold and asked if he could rest on his boat while his dad straightened things out with the sailboat. Little did my husband know as he was trying to get things back in order the would be rescuer had troubles of his own. They drifted further and further apart. They tried but were unable to signal to my husband that the boat's engine had died. Confused as to why the boater was leaving with Thomas my husband tried to reassure himself that the man was a good person for trying to help and would try to return Thomas to shore. Before they had drifted out of view, Thomas looked relaxed and happy so he was sure that when he finally got the sailboat back home he would be greeted by his son. He finally had to give up with the sail and paddle the boat home. His paddle had broken so he was happy when an off duty tow boat was kind enough to tow him back. His fears started to get the better of him when Thomas was not home as he had hoped.

That brings us up to our encounter in the street outside our bungalow. As I heard the story and embraced Tom in a hug I realized we needed to call the police. Fortunately, the boater had a cell phone and had also called in so it was only about a half hour before we knew the situation and could get directions to the marina where he was being towed.

Thomas was very glad to see us. He knew he was safe but just said he REALLY missed us. Tom and I needed to calm down from the shock. Each of us had been scared for different reasons. Tom because although he assumed Thomas was safe, he was still missing. Me because there was a moment where I believed he was dead. That moment was less than a minute but felt like an eternity. I can still imagine the feeling washing over me like a tidal wave, crushing me in emotional agony making it difficult for my heart to go on beating. A moment that I'm glad had an ending. I weep for the people who have those moments that don't end. How hard it must be for their hearts to go on beating.