Lost and Found

The week Naki died I remember I was in the car with Line, on our way home from somewhere, and we were talking about Naki's death. During that conversation I used the words "When we lost your Dad..." when describing Naki dying. Before I even finished that sentence, I said to Li,



Mom: Hold on...that doesn't sound right. I didn't lose your Dad...he died. That word "lose" doesn't actually make sense when talking about this, does it?



Line: I know! It makes me think of if I put Dad down over there (motioning off to the side), and then went back to get him later and find him lost...I'd start to think to myself, Where did I put Dad? Did I put him over here, or over here, or over there? Where IS Dad?



We had a good laugh about that, since it's pretty difficult to imagine actually losing Big Naki anywhere, and haven't used that word since when talking about Naki dying. But I've recently had some experiences where I in fact DID lose not just one child, but two. Seriously. Does God realize exactly who he's left these precious children with? I just don't feel up to the job these days.



This past Saturday we were enjoying a loving evening at home. The girls had recently returned from playing at their dance teacher's house (a new favorite activity!), we were getting changed into pajamas, starting the baby's bath, playing video games, men were working in the kitchen, and I was on the phone with one of the girls' Uncles in Florida. After I'd hung up I realized that I hadn't seen Malia since I'd been on the phone and asked the girls who were close by if they'd seen her lately. No one had, but that's not unusual. We don't live in a huge house by any standard, but the way it's designed the basement, the upstairs, and then the addition are in such a way that you are completely cut off from each level when on any of the other ones. You can't see or hear most anything that's going on. So I set off to run upstairs and just check to see what she'd been up to. Imagine my surprise when I didn't find her up there. I came back downstairs and rechecked downstairs...no Malia. Back up I went. By this point, I was alarmed.



I admit it doesn't take much to get me there, though. That is one of the Mourner's Bill of Rights. I don't have the paper handy, but to sum it up in official mourning language, it states that as a mourner I hold the right to pretty much freak out whenever I deem necessary. It is completely common and normal for a mourner to expect the worst. Some might call it waiting for the other shoe to drop. In other words, now that such a horrible and unexpected event occurred in my life I see all future occurances in a new light...I now live in a state of fear, waiting from crummy moment to crummy moment, knowing that surely any minute I'm about to experience another unexpected horrible event. Don't get too comfortable in any sort of peace or happiness...something terrible will just happen to ruin everything. This experience validated all of those feelings.



I now started opening doors and looking in closets. All the way back downstairs. By now the girls could tell that something wasn't right. I don't know what gave it away. Who would think anything was wrong by just looking at my pale face, sweat starting to bead across my upper lip, shaking hands, loud name hollering every 2 seconds? I'd never be any good at a game of poker. I have no game face, as hard as I try. By now Auntie Ginny who was here for the holiday had put on her coat and took off outside and started looking around the backyard, the shed, and up and down the streets. I'd told all the girls to sit in one spot so that I didn't end up looking for one of them as well, and grabbed the phone and dialed 911. "Could this really be happening? Am I seriously dialing 911 AGAIN?", I thought. But I couldn't see any alternative. Before Ginny was outside I'd run outside myself. I'd noticed that all the doors were locked from the inside, something she couldn't have managed with these particular locks if she'd gone out those doors. I was so confused. Again, I am running through all the rooms, starting to fear the worst. After experiencing the death of a loved one I've decided that it's my trial of choice when it comes to loved ones...I would much rather see them just die and be finished than know that something awful and terrible has happened to them that they have to live through. Especially the girlies...and I'm talking terrible terrible things that can happen to girlies...abductions, rape, any kind of torture, you name it. My apologies for being so frank, but death has done that to me. It's removed my layer of subtlety and indirectness and replaced it with abrasiveness and sharpness. And so it's with an amount of embarrassment that I admit that at this point, since I couldn't find her and I was pretty positive she hadn't left, I started to suspect foul play by the men working in my kitchen. What do I know of them? I didn't know them from Adam, and they could have easily manuevered something right under my nose and I would never have known it. I'm aware I sound paranoid, but when you've been searching for your child unsuccessfully for as long as I had been, and you've already experienced a devastatingly life changing event, you expect the worst.



Thank you to the sweet responders from Orem City, some of whom were here responding to my other 911 call the night of October 16th. Let me tell you, I don't think I'm a bad parent. But when they asked me how long it had been since I'd last seen her, and I had to admit that it'd been about 45 minutes, I sure felt like one. I know realistically that no family sits in the same room with each other every minute of every day, but at that moment I felt like I should have had all of them within my sight so that I could say...well, I don't know what I'd say. But at least I wouldn't have had to say anything since I'd never lost her in the first place! They did a thorough sweep of the whole house, and found her, asleep, listening to her ipod christmas present, curled in a ball under baby Ane's crib. Thus, her inability to hear us screaming her name over and over for almost an hour. Yes...I'm also embarrassed to admit that on one of my first sweeps before I started panicking that I swept my foot under the crib but felt the pillow that we always keep under there, and moved on. Like I said before, who deemed me qualified for this job anyway? And I want to know if anyone's accepting resignations?



I did not order any repeats of that awful experience, but oh-so-lucky-me got one tonight. My 3 big girls were at their family's house for dinner and a late-over, so I decided that Eli and I would have some special time together while they were gone. I first got Ane to bed, and then Eli and Eva and I watched a movie. After some amazing dancing and rocking out to High School Musical on the Wii, I put Eva to bed. Eli and I then started making a treat for our New Year's Eve party tomorrow night in our current kitchen, otherwise known as the laundry room. (The kitchen is SOOO close to being completed...any day.) In our lovely bomb-shell-style room the laundry machines were both going and the furnace had kicked on, so I was quite surprised when I could make out some clunking and kind of non-descript sounds over all that noice. Again...never play me in poker. Eli knew I had concerns immediately by my face. I told her to stay put, I was just going to check and make sure Eva wasn't kicking down her door...or something along those lines. See? I at least attempted to make light of everything when my heart was pounding out of my chest.



Recently I tried to describe to my sister one of my not-so-favorite new emotions/thoughts that I've started feeling since Naki's died. I have a very very real fear of getting mugged, robbed, beat up, and overall just being taken advantage of. I've always set my purse in the cart when I'm shopping...now I'm constantly checking to see if anyone's gonna grab it when I'm not looking. When I walk to my car from the gym and I'm by myself I do a parameter scan and I don't unlock the door until right before I get in and then immediately lock it as I'm pulling it shut. At night every little sound makes me catch my breath. Now here's the thing that's so silly about all of that. In all of those scenarios, (I didn't even list them all because you'd REALLY think I'd lost it) I'm not doing anything different, going anywhere different, than I did when Naki was alive. I went to the gym alone every time. I put my purse in the cart in every store. Since we were married I've spent more time at night alone than with him home. The difference is that I feel the unwanted and unwelcome presence in my life of vulnerability that I've never before felt. He couldn't have changed the outcome of any of the things I'm now fearful of if he were alive. I think it's the combination of having him die and not being able to control it, being vulnerable to it, and then just not having such a protector presence in my life anymore that brings these frightful and fearful feelings front and center in me. I hate them. I hate the way it feels. I've never before felt it, and I pray it leaves SOON. No one can fix it. I have to wait this out, just like all the other crappy feelings I'm waiting out, and pray that they dissolve into a distant memory someday. However, I don't know when, but I would definitely like to take some self defense classes, and then teach those things to the girls so they can be empowered with that information as well.



Eli, of course, did not stay put where I told her to, as I quickly walked upstairs to just make sure Eva was behaving. Imagine my surprise to find her bed empty, and her no where to be found. I was pretty alarmed because all the house lights were turned off...all of them, except for where Eli and I had been, and she's scared of the dark. But I searched the entire house for Eva anyway. Up and down, up and down, up and down, hollering her name the entire time. In closets, showers, under beds, in the garage, in the car, in cupboards, in all the rooms,out the front and back door (no footprints in the snow, so I knew she HAD to be in the house...) Yes, I felt the urge to almost call 911 again. If I were to have called I can just imagine them rolling their eyes when they find out who the caller is. But I learned from losing Malia that I better search my bestest bestest before I end up looking like an incompetent idiot. I searched the house about 4 times, you guys...that little girl is sneaky. I finally realized she kept moving hiding spots, because I could hear her. When I was in the garage I finally heard movement above me in the addition part of the house. By the time I came in and ran up there, she wasn't there anymore. After this happening a couple of times I figured out that if I stood still enough and stopped breathing so heavily I could actually hear her stealthy 3 year old-style combat maneuvers. At round 4 of the house sweeps I told Eli to stay put on one of the big chairs sitting at an angle in the basement so I'd at least know where she was. I then made my way back up to my room back up in the addition, held still, and realized that I could make out Eli talking to someone. I rushed back down to see her on her knees, leaning over the back of her assigned chair, telling Eva that she was in BIG trouble. Yup...she was crouched down behind that chair with her blanket. I can just see her joyriding out of bed at first, not thinking too much about it. But after she heard me searching, I can just picture her doing her best not to get caught, hiding anywhere she could in the amount of time she had.

Seriously...resignations?