Her blonde hair swings behind her as she lifts herself into the car, a smile on her face as she sings, “Bye Mommy! Have a great day!” And then I say a silent prayer.

I’m not sure if she knows what I’m thinking when I have a hard time letting her out the door in the morning.  It’s not every day, there are days that I can stick to the usual ritual and feel fine.  I admit, I’ll run from the other end of the house as she leaves for school to catch her and hug her, making sure she knows how much I love her…but that’s normal. That’s just being a mom.  The days that I hug her tighter than usual – multiple times – and call her back in from the car to hug her again before her dad drives her to school, those are the days I wonder if she thinks I’m losing it.

Those are the days that I hold back the tears as “have a great day” comes out of my mouth.  Those are the days I can’t shake the reality that something could happen to my babies when they are away from me.  It is not just mental; I feel faint – slightly dizzy, my stomach churns from unease, my limbs feel heavy and many days I have to sit down once the door closes after we’ve said good bye.  Most days I manage to wipe the tears from my eyes before William runs to me wanting “huggies and cuddles.”

It’s not rational.  Even people who think they understand say, “That’s not weird, that’s parenthood.  We all worry about our children when they are away from us.”  But this doesn’t feel normal.  This is full body fear that some horrible person full of hate will enter one of their schools.  This is the realization that bad things don’t just happen to people on the news and nothing like that could happen where I live.  Because it did happen.  I’ve lived it. Then, to make things even more terrifying, some nutjob made elementary school shootings a reality.  Nothing is off limits.  This is not irrational and it is not paranoia – it is real.  And I have to kiss my beautiful daughter and son every morning and trust that the school will protect them.  But how could anyone protect them from that reality?

This isn’t constant.  There are numerous days that I can let them be away from me, so they can grow and learn and become the kind of people I want to put out into the world.  I can go about my day, creating artwork and writing books and doing my best to make a positive impact on the world.  There are days that I believe in the power of kindness to change the world for the better.

But when a siren screams by, I’m pulled behind it on a rope, wind whipping my face as it drives directly into the past and parks in front of a school on lockdown.  I have a mental debate, trying to figure out if they’ll think I’m nuts if I call Addie’s school again making sure that everything is okay.  And most of the time I don’t call, because my rational mind knows nothing happened.

So I will wait.  I will sit in this Starbucks and not cry in public.  I will keep an eye on the door and watch every person who enters.  Just like I do everywhere I go.  I will notice where the exits are and I will keep my phone where I can see it, just in case something happens and my kids need me.  I will keep living because there is no other choice, life does not stop because I am afraid.

I just hope that someday, the reasons I am afraid become improbable.  I pray that one of these days my fear can live in my memories and not in realistic possibility every day.

Here’s hopin’.