The Daily Post:  Survival

I survived a parent’s worst nightmare. The middle of the night phone call.  I missed the first ring but the second that came almost immediately had me out of the bed and on high alert.

Our brains with more than 100 billion nerve cells, is the most sophisticated communication network we own, and when it speaks, we better listen. My daughter who lives nearly 500 miles away was on the other end of that line, and she was terrified – someone was in the hall of her apartment trying to get in somewhere. Even I, through the phone lines, could hear the God- awful ruckus the intruder was making. He sounded like he was on the other side of her door.

“Call 911.”

“Oh my God! He’s right outside.” Her crying intensified. “What do I do? What do I do?” Fear had paralyzed her.

“Stay on the line with me honey. I’m calling 911 from my end. “Don’t hang up.”

A mother’s instinct to protect her children, no matter their age and it’s as strong as any of our survival instincts. My job as a mother was to stay calm and help her as best I could.I can tell you if I could have flown through those phone lines – I would have.

“Is the chain on your door?”

“I don’t have a chain.”

“Move the foyer dresser in front of the door.”

“He’ll hear me!”

“Get a knife, right now. If he comes through that door, use it.”

“Okay, okay.”

“Get your pepper spray.”

While I tried to keep her calm here’s where my mind was taking me. I didn’t want her to hang up to call herself, although she did and those few minutes we were not connected were the longest of my life. I was terrified if she hung up even for a moment,   the worst might happen. In my mind as long as I could hear talk to her, she was safe.

And here:

 Her crying intensified. “He’s trying to break down a door.”

I heard the destruction 500 miles away, and I prayed. “The police are on their way sweetheart, stay with me. You’re okay.”

“The police are here. They just pulled up out front.”

“Honey, before you open the door, make sure it’s the police and don’t open the door with the knife in your hand, please.”

As it turns out, a drunken boyfriend kicked in the door to his girlfriend’s apartment. The police found him passed out inside and the girlfriend three sheets to the winds, as well. My daughter and other young ladies on the hall, although terrorized, were safe.

Yep, this mom survived a late-night phone call. Thank God so did my daughter. But, let me assure anyone who messes with my daughters will face this mother’s wrath.

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