The What Ifs

Yesterday was tough but there was a happy ending which brought some peace, but the what ifs went through my brain all day. Then today I was reminded by the passing of Ramon "RJ" Jett that although social media is an amazing tool to help with these searches we need more.

Yesterday was hard.

There was a family gathering waiting for me,

filled with faces I love,

faces I haven't seen since before everything changed

or worse,

since they stood beside me at Erin's funeral.

I wanted to go.

But I couldn't bear the questions.

"How are you?"

"How are you holding up?"

Questions asked with love,

but carrying answers too heavy for a summer afternoon.

So I stayed home.

Then, on the way to watch Meghan cheer on her softball teammates,

a frantic stranger stopped me.

A young man with autism had wandered away.

And suddenly,

I wasn't thinking about parties or conversations.

I was thinking about fear.

The kind that lives quietly in the hearts of so many families.

The fear that follows every unlocked door,

every moment of silence,

every second a child is out of sight.

My heart sank.

Because I know that fear.

My mind raced through the what ifs.

What if he kept going?

What if he reached the water?

What if he wandered somewhere no one could see?

What if help came too late?

The same questions every parent of an autistic child asks,

but prays they never have to answer.

Thankfully, our community did what it always does.

People shared.

People searched.

People cared.

And he was found.

Safe.

But even after the relief came,

the what ifs remained.

Because sometimes safe endings make us remember

how easily the story could have gone another way.

So I shared the video.

Earlier than we planned.

Earlier than I thought I was ready.

Because if there is one thing grief has taught me,

it is that waiting is a luxury not everyone gets.

What if it had been their child?

What if it had been yours?

What if one simple tool could bring someone home?

Yesterday was hard.

Not because I attended a party,

but because I didn't.

Not because a young man was lost,

but because he was found.

Because for a moment,

I saw both sides of grief.

The life I can no longer live,

and the lives we might still save.

And for the first time all day,

the what ifs gave way to something else.

Hope.

Hope that because of Erin,

another family might get a different ending.

Hope that because of Erin,

someone else's child comes home.

Hope that because of Erin,

the fear won't have the final word.

What if because of Erin

Others are saved.