11:00am: I call Tony, who has facilitated transportation for my son to the Ranch, and ask if the team will still be arriving around 1pm. He provides me the number to the men who will take my son to the Ranch, and I phone them to determine where they are and an estimated time of arrival. Based on their location, we concluded they should be here around 1pm. Then we devise a plan, as they normally come to your homes in the early morning hours to pick up teens, but our situation was a little different. Who knew if my son would be home in the middle of the night, as his new forte was sneaking out despite our home alarm.
The Plan: I will go to the school and pick him up, under the notion he is going to his already scheduled doctor's appointment. The 11 miles from school to our town was brutal, and I prayed feverishly for God to give me the strength to remain calm and not let him know something was about to happen.
1:05pm: We turn down our street so I could stop by the house real quick, and he asks who is in our drive-way. The only response I could muster was a weak, "I don't know." We pull up in the drive-way, and two men come up to his side of the door and I exit my vehicle. They ask if he is Michael and then do a quick pat down search and ask him to go to the vehicle with them. I am standing at the rear of my SUV, fighting every tear and begging God to help me. They have Michael in the backseat of the car, and one of them came to me and retrieved his belongings. I assist him in gathering his belongings and we walk past the car. As I'm walking past the car, Michael shakes his head and says, "I'll deal with you when I come home." I never made eye contact and quickly went into the house.
1:08pm: I'm bawling my eyes out in the house as they pull out of the drive-way. And just like that, my 16 year old son is gone.
The next couple of hours are not real vivid, as all I recall is sitting in my chair curled up bawling and asking God if we did the right thing. It would be the first of many cries in my chair.
9:52pm: The phone rings and it is the transporters telling me they arrived safely at the Ranch and Michael is now in Pastor's hands. They told me once they drove about 45 miles, Michael began opening up and never "shut up until we arrived!" It made me feel better for a second that he talked, but then I wondered what he was thinking right now.
I cried myself to sleep that night, and I wondered how I would ever make it without my #1.
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