I HAD TO SNEAK IN THE HOUSE LIKE A NAUGHTY TEENAGER

There was a horrible accident last night--Terrible!  A family of five was in their van on the highway, and collided with another larger vehicle, head on.  Everyone in the vehicle died,  except for the youngest daughter who was in critical condition.  When I saw the report on the news, I thought it unbelievably tragic, but didn't think that I would be touched by it at all, since I did not know these people.  I just turned off the television, because I could no longer watch it.  It was depressing.  I prayed for the little girl left behind.

At twelve o'clock, the house was so peaceful.  Derek and Philip were in bed, the television was off, the lights were out, and you could hear a pin drop.  I was in the tub taking a long, hot bath--just relaxing and enjoying the quiet.  Then my cell phone rang.

I saw that it was T's number.  The first thing that he said was "They're all dead."

It was at that moment that I realized that he was working last night.  He had been at the scene of the accident, and I could tell by his voice that he had been traumatized.  He only wanted to talk, but I knew that he needed comfort.  I immediately dressed, sneaked out the back door, and walked right over there to do just that.

He told me about the scene at the accident, the carnage of it all, and about the badly burned little girl who mercifully died at the hospital.  He confessed that he was sick of seeing scenes like that.    It seemed to open the floodgates of his soul.  He opened up completely, telling me some secrets about himself.  I finally found out why he left the Navy, which was something I thought that he would never tell, and what happened after that, until the day that I met him.  

Afterwards, I must have fallen asleep, which was a stupid mistake.  Unfortunately,  I did not awaken until six in the morning, and obviously,  I was not where I was supposed to be.  I instantly started to shake, but thanked God it was Saturday morning.  Any morning during the week would have be nightmarish, because Philip usually rises at six each weekday.  Saturdays, he sleeps later--sometimes seven or eight or nine.  It all depends on the time of Derek's soccer game.  Today's game was at 11 am, so I really didn't know what time Philip planned to get up.  

Suddenly, I felt like I was a teenager out past curfew, but with much more serious consequences.  My mind was spinning as I dressed, and I wished that I could blink myself into the house like "Jeannie".  I was nearly frozen with fear, trying to think of believable excuses.  Did I go for an early walk?  Was I sitting in the backyard reading a book?  Either excuse was worthless, because at six o' clock this morning, it was 40 degrees and dark.
  
Finally, I had the courage to try.  I sneaked outside into T's backyard, through the fence separating our yards, and into my backyard.   The lights were still out, and that was a good sign.  I slowly opened the sliding glass door, and slid inside the house.  I made it.  Thank God!

After all that worry, I found that Derek and Philip were still asleep in their beds.  I planned on pretending that I fell asleep on the couch to explain why I never made it into the bedroom last night, but nobody asked.  Philip didn't know that I had been missing, and basically could not care less.

Now that Philip and Derek have left for the soccer game, and I am writing about last night's events, I realize that I could have been caught so easily.  Today might have been the day when everything came out--luckily it was not.  Obviously, I have to be more careful, and I can't ever do this again.