The forecasters predicted only an inch to three inches of snow, so we weren’t too worried about it. Liam was already home; he had an ear infection and I had to take an hour off of work at lunchtime to bring him home. That was just about when the snow started. Marybeth goes to school close enough to home that she can walk back and forth.

By the time I got off work at 3:00 we already had three inches of wet snow on the ground and more coming down. Tne roads were an absolute mess. The radio announcers are listing the closings for the evening, including the malls and Arthur Angelo’s School of Hair Design. To put it in perspective, you know it’s bad in Rhode Island when they’re willing to let big hair go untended. What is usually a 20 minute drive home took me an hour and 20 minutes. On one of the hills I drive up, two busses (one a school bus) have skidded out and are blocking traffic on both sides of the road. It’s a mess.

I finally get home. Sean is not yet home.

Sean goes to school in Providence and even on good days it’s a long bus ride, but he’s usually home by 3:30. It’s now 4:15 and no sign of him yet. I’m willing to give them the benefit of the doubt and know that with the condition of the streets and traffic down to 20 mph on the interstates that it’s going to take a bit longer to get home, but it’s cold, and it’s snowy and the roads are turning to ice and I want him home now.

The time crawls on. There’s no one left at his school and I have no idea what might have happened or where he is. There’s no one we can call and I can’t even go out looking for him because it would be an impossible challenge to find one small minibus in the I95 snarl. Was there an accident somewhere? He’s also due for his medication and I can’t imagine what his mind is doing right now or how he is dealing with the idea that he’s not going to be home until after dark.

By 5:00 I’m almost panicking, standing like a staute at the front door with a cold cup of tea, waiting. Everytime a pair of headlights come around the corner I pray that it’s his bus, but it’s not. I can’t even pace, I’m so nervous. If you’re a parent you know the feeling. There’s absolutely nothing you can do and you can’t even think straight.

5:30. His bus finally pulls up. He’s home.

Wow. I’m glad Euty! I certainly do know the feeling, especially when my daughter didn’t come home all night once. Frightening. It turned out ok, thankfully.

Makes you want to hold’em and never let go, doesn’t it.

{{{{{{{{{Euty & Kids}}}}}}}}}}}}}

Oh, Euty! I do understand, having two kids of my own. I’m so very glad it turned out ok for Sean. Hold your kids close, and love them.
{{{{{{{{Euty & fam}}}}}}}}

Whew! I’m glad Sean’s okay. There’s nothing worse than the feeling of total powerlessness that a parent has when they don’t know where their child is. Talk about minutes feeling like hours…

One time, my son was out riding his bike (instead of playing at his friend’s house, which is where he was supposed to be), when a tornado warning was issued for our county. I was SO glad when he showed up at our house, just before the wind picked up. When the storm was over, there were numerous large tree limbs lying around that might have hit him if he’d been just a few minutes later. Scary as hell.

((((Euty and Family))))

I am SO glad that you are all home safe and warm!


Nothing beats a happy ending!

i’m glad your sean got home. i’ll bet there was much rejoicing and hugging.

here in philly some schools have set up to keep the kids overnight. the roads here are still blocked up.


((((Euty & kids))))

I’m glad everyone got home safely, dear friend.

Whew! I am really glad that story had a happy ending! I can only imagine the trauma of dealing with that. I would have been hysterical.

Hug all three kids extra tight for the next couple days!