The Text Message No Parent Ever Wants To ReceiveLiz Cerezo
Another school year, another school shooting. In the span of ten days, we’ve been burdened with two heartbreaking school killings. Since my post about my fear of my kids going back to school, my heart sinks further down due to the unrelenting fear of shootings, killings, and murder.
How sad is that? So incredibly sad.
It’s been a while since this incident happened with my son. I, just now, brought myself to write about it. As a parent, you truly don’t experience this kind of breathtaking fear until this is sent to your phone:
Anxiety. Panic. Terror.
All these emotions mixed into one overwhelming wave. My teen is home-schooled, but attends an on-site school twice a week. Normally, I stay around the area, since his school is a little far from home, but my younger kids had minimum day. I left to go pick them up, and I was driving back to his school to pick him up when I got the text.
I am not going to lie to you. At this point, I broke so many laws. I floored it. I called two people to see if anything was on the news. I spoke in Spanish, so that my little ones couldn’t understand what I was saying. I even a called friend who also has a son in the same school. I didn’t worry about any law enforcement seeing me as I felt my leg shaking while I had my foot on the gas pedal.
All I wanted was to get to my son.
From the freeway, I could see two helicopters circling the area where his school was. My heart was pounding. At that time, my son called to tell me what was happening and where he was. The sound of his voice calmed me down. All the kids were moved away from the campus and a pick-up line was formed away from the school. The lockdown had since passed. As I got close to his school, the amount of police presence was incredible. All were wearing protective gear and carrying mighty weapons as they were talking to a kid who brought an airsoft gun to school. If that doesn’t mess with your mind, nothing will.
As soon as my son got in the car, I broke down in tears. Big, huge, sentimental tears as I thanked the Lord that I got to take my son home safe and sound. I held his hand the whole way home.
And you know what? He didn’t pull his hand away.