Something happened this morning. Something that scared me. Badly. I realized just how sheltered I am. And I’m so thankful for it. Never again do I want to see or experience the level of self torture and affliction I witnessed. I’m not cut out for it. I feel everything.
Thinking about it now, I’m not even sure the last time I felt truly afraid. Maybe that time I was driving at night in a foreign country on the other side of the road in the other side of the car and I realized just how bad my night vision is. But that wasn’t the same. That was funny scared. There was nothing funny about this morning.
I brought danger in my house. My intentions were good. But the outcome was not. On the phone with the 911 operator I could feel my heartbeat in my ears, my pulse racing, my body poised for flight if things escalated.
The first officer on the scene towered over me, his girth speaking of many donuts consumed. Two other giants of men soon followed, accompanied by the flashing lights and box-shaped vehicle that would carry the danger away.
“I am safe,” I told my friend later. And then it hit me. I don’t believe I’ve ever said those words to someone before. I’ve never felt the need. It was always assumed. But this morning, I was not safe.
Surrounded by three massive uniformed men, I cradled an elbow in one hand while the other rested on my heart. I felt tiny, wide-eyed, a bit of innocence I didn’t even know I had gone.
“Don’t ever put yourself in danger like that again,” the middle-sized giant said in a stern, fatherly voice.
I nodded rapidly in response, tears filling my eyes, a few escaping and coursing down my cheeks.
“I won’t. I promise.”