I lived in Maryland for a brief year back in 2000. It turned out to be a glorious year where I found myself in New York City for the first time in my life.

And went back 5 more times (each time to see CATS before it closed, but I digress).

I loved being that close to NYC without actually being in NYC.

During my year there I had a friend come to visit. We would go to NYC together and then just spend the rest of the week hanging out.  We had a great time, and as always happens the time came for her to return home.

I packed up 2 year old Denver and my friend in the car and we went to the airport to prepare for the flight.

Everything went smooth and we ended up at the airport way ahead of schedule (keeping in mind this is pre-9/11).  So we checked her bags and walked through the airport.  Along the way to her gate sat a ‘playground’ of sorts for the kids.  STuff to climb on and in, a miniature playground-type plane to climb through, other random items I can’t even remember.

Just a little out of the way area with wide open space and exits.

We sent him playing in the toy area and sat down on the ground, our backs pressed against a large pillar so we had a clear view of the whole play area.  We chatted, laughed, reminisced over our time in NYC.

And then.

Denver disappeared.

No one came and snatched him, though people stood nearby, no one stepped into the play area.

He didn’t run away to make us chase him down the hall.

He just disappeared.

Poof.

My heart seized into a tight ball, I called for him. Denver, the good boy, always answered my calls.

Nothing.

Panic poured through my veins, my heart pounding a rapid cadence in my chest.

I rose to my feet on shaky legs, needing the support of that pillar to even make it.

Words clogged in my throat as I called for Denver again, frantic notes raising my pitch. A couple of heads turned our way, no one moved to help.

I gripped the pillar, unable to move my feet, this time screaming his name, searching every inch of the open area.

Finally my legs moved without my push to do so, racing through the play area. I ducked to peek into every nook, every cranny.

Hands shaking, stomach turning, sweat and tears clinging to my forehead and cheeks.

And found him.

Hiding and playing inside the pretend plane.

Happy as a clam.

Oblivious to my terror.

Never before that moment had I felt more like a mother…and less of a failure.

In truth he was “missing” for all of 30 seconds, and he was only feet away from me…but I have never been more scared.

And I hope to never have that feeling ever again in my life.  I hope none of you ever do either.