My heart aches for that vulnerable child and her parents. The pain and suffering is so clearly etched on their faces that it is like reading words in a book. Even if she hasn’t been hurt, she will be frightened and as a parent, there is nothing worse than the thought of your children feeling scared when there is nothing you can do to comfort and protect them.
Last night was another news update, more searching, more frustration. How do you find a lost child? Where do you begin? This news story is the first one ever that my children have been obsessed with. It is horrific beyond comprehension. We all will them to find her, safe and unharmed. If not, I fear for them. Dealing with the pain of loss is a very individual thing and they will have to try and cope with it together. Grief can often tear families apart.
As I kissed my children goodnight in their beds last night, I am quite sure I wasn’t the only one to hold them a bit tighter and to remind myself how much I love them and how lucky I am to have them. “He took her because she is beautiful and I know where she is”, my six year old said. “I’m psychic. She’s on a beach, swaying around”.
He was back in my bed last night, scared that somebody would climb through the window and take him away. “They’d never be able to carry you, you’re too fat” said the 11 year old this morning and for the moment, I don’t mind him in my bed. He’s here. With me. Just as it should be.
