Losing Byron

As I look back over these past 24 years with Byron, I realize we lost him three times. The first time was the summer he was six. Our family had a get together in New Braunsfel at Schlitterbaun. Everyone was having a wonderful time when I realized Byron was nowhere to be found. The panic that runs through your body is like an electrifying shock. Questions and horror thoughts run through your brain. Where was my precious little boy? Did he drown? Did someone take him? After several agonizing minutes, Don found him at the wading pool. He knew where he was, we just didn't. At that moment, there was no anger only relief. Relief that we had found our little boy safe and sound. Hugs and kisses were all that was needed.
The second time I lost Byron was when he was 12 years old. We stopped at a mall in Waco on our way home from Christmas in Anson. Byron was sporting his new watch and new cap he had received as gifts. We entered the mall at a Bealls and of course the girls and I needed to go to the bathroom. Byron said he was going to the sporting section and I told him not to leave that area. Well, when we fininshed our business, I began to look for Byron in Bealls. After several minutes of frustration, I started to panic. After checking the dressing room in the boys section, I went to the counter and asked the lady if she could call for him on the speaker. Byron never showed up. I was already in tears. I grabbed my girls hands and started walking through the mall. People were everywhere. Anyone could have taken my little boy. I couldn't imagine what I was going to tell Don. He would never forgive me. Luckily I found a mall cop and began explaining to him that my son was lost. When he asked for a description, I began to describe Byron to a T. What he was wearing. What he looked like. That he was this tall....which was as tall as I was. That's when I noticed that he was not taking this nearly as serious as I was. He said he would help look and I slowly made my way back to Bealls and sat in front of the store on some benches. I clung onto the girls with tears running down my cheeks when all of a sudden Byron comes walking out of Bealls. I literally ran to him, hugging his neck relieved that he was safe and sound. He had gone to a sporting store and had stayed there like I had instructed until he waited long enough and came back to Bealls. Once again, he knew where he was, I didn't.
The third time we lost Byron was two years ago on March 14. He knew where he was, we didn't. He called one night saying he needed to talk and would be there early in the morning, not to wait up, we could talk when Don and I were awake. Early the next morning after a restless night of sleep, I crawled out of bed to go wake Byron so we could talk. He began explaining that he was addicted to drugs and needed help. My world stopped as I listened in disbelief. Don and I sat down with him as he explained to us the horror story of his last couple of years. The spiraling effect that a drug had on him. He was out of control and needed our help. With open arms we hugged him and loved him and told him we would find the help he needed. He was lost, but he knew where he was, we didn't.