Bad weather is rolling through the Dallas area tonight. The forecast is for thunderstorms and possible damaging hail and straight-line winds. No tornados. Not like a couple of weeks ago when we had 12 blow through the area in the early afternoon.
I was at work in downtown Dallas. The Boy was at School, in our hometown, approximately 23 miles away. Downtown Dallas was under a tornado warning. I watched a tornado from my office window go through an area south of downtown. At points, downtown Dallas was pitch black. We were told to move to the interior of the building, away from the windows.
This was not the scariest thing about that day.
The scariest thing was the tornado warning that included my hometown . . . the tornado warning that indicated that the storm was moving, not just in the general direction of my hometown, but directly towards my hometown. And I was not there. My little, little boy was at School, in the path of the storm, and I was not there to protect him, to lay my body over his like I would do if a storm hit when we were all at home together.
I think that this is the worst part of being a working mom. You have to be away from your child, who is your heart, and you cannot protect him. You have to trust that others will take good care of him and that he will be okay. (And, of course, the ladies at his School were wonderful and did take excellent care of the kids during the horrible storm.)
I sat there at my desk quietly sobbing with this unbelievable urge to throw myself in front of whatever may be heading toward my boy, who was 23 miles away. I felt completely and utterly helpless, and terrified. I suspect that all mothers eventually have this feeling of needing to protect their children and not being able to. I suspect that they all feel helpless and terrified. It just maybe comes sooner for a working mommy.
In the end, a tornado did not go through my hometown. It went south. We got damaging winds and baseball sized hail. Lots of cars were destroyed. Some people lost fences, windows, sunlights. We're going to need a new roof. But The Boy was safe and sound. In fact, he was his cheerful little self when I picked him up, as if he has not spent three hours of the afternoon in the daycare's saferoom. I was relieved and glad. I know they will always take care of The Boy when danger strikes.
Still, I'm comforted that tonight, if the weather threatens, if I need to, I will be there to hold him to my chest and lay over him as the storm passes over our house. It will be scary, but I will be there.
