This is the story of the THIRD time Jonah “eloped” on us. (I have shared the last two experiences in previous posts).

I’m a bit hesitant to share this one.

In the past, I had dreaded what COULD have happened, but aside from being outside my care, Jonah was never in any REAL danger.

This time was different.

Before “autism” entered our lives, I had never heard the term “elopement” in reference to children.

Jonah is only 8 years old, but we have learned about “elopement” first hand…

…Four Times.

“Elopement” with children is more than the child just “running away” or getting separated from their parents.

When a child is non-verbal, there is an added element of danger because they will not respond to strangers… They will not give their name or their parent’s names, their contact information… or even convey that they are “lost.”

Simply put…in general, if YOU do not find your child, they will not find YOU.

So as a parent, it is the worst feeling in the world…to turn around and your non-verbal child is simply “not there.”

Just… GONE.

Our family took a trip to Disneyland in October 2019 (I will write about that later), but the day before we left, with all the anxiety, the stress and the preparations we were trying to make, something happened that vastly changed my whole perspective…

…It was a profound gut-check.

And despite the fact that after the last ordeal, I swore to NEVER let it happen…

…despite the fact that I had ordered a tracking device for Jonah…

…despite ALL the preparations I was making to keep Jonah safe at Disneyland…

…Jonah got away from me AGAIN while we were simply eating dinner at our local McDonalds.

He had completely left the premises…

…and I never even knew it.

It would have ended VERY BADLY, if not for fortuitous circumstances and a guardian angel.

—————-

[October 2, 2019]

“I can’t sleep. I’m a bit shaken up.

Tomorrow (technically today now) we leave for Disneyland. And I’m shaking.

Literally.

I could say it’s because of all the stress, fear, and anxiety about traveling with 2 special needs kids, the crowds, the possibility of very public meltdowns….

I could say that was the reason I am shaking.

But I would be lying.

Today our PTA had a “McTeachers” night at our local McDonalds where our school teachers served the fast food for donations as a fundraiser.

Jonny (11) wanted to go, and Jonah (Ausome, non-verbal-6) generally likes playing at McDonalds so I figured we would be fine for a bit.

We were greeted at the door by a middle-aged gal dressed in “spirit” wear for the school. Evidently, she had drawn the short straw to be the school mascot for this event. She was wearing the school colors with a PTA logo on her sweatshirt and had on face-painted whiskers and sported a “tiger ears” headband.

Cute.

The place was packed.

I mean PACKED. Probably over 50 kids in the indoor play area. The sound was DEAFENING. Over 50 screaming, playing kids in, on, and around that play structure. Jonah didn’t seem phased and ran right into the fray. Jonny was much more reserved.

We got our food, found a table (luckily), and sat down. Jonah started eating his chicken nuggets one bite at a time and running back into the mix on the play structure.

Back and forth. One bite. Back and forth. One bite.

This is his normal “eating” routine at McDonalds. He has never deviated.

But about 15 minutes in, Jonny was covering his ears saying it was too loud. I didn’t blame him. MY ears were ringing from the commotion. We hadn’t even finished half our food, but I told him we could leave.

I worried that Jonah would not want to come down. Typically, we play at least half an hour or so when we go to McDonalds.

I found Jonah up in the play structure. When I informed him it was time to leave, he immediately rushed back into the crowd of kids. I looked for him but couldn’t find him amongst the crowd.

I wasn’t really too worried. He was inside the big toy structure and it was completely enclosed. There really weren’t a lot of exits from it. I would just have to wait him out.

But I didn’t know if he was coming down or not. He rushed into the crowd of kids so fast, I thought he was trying to stall for more time. I wasn’t in any particular hurry and yelling at him would accomplish NOTHING since he wouldn’t even hear me. That’s how loud it was.

So I scanned the kids… looking for him at the bottom of the slide… or climbing back up the plaything. I didn’t see him.

Like I said… about 50 kids there.

A few minutes passed. I figured he might be hiding from me, so I wandered around the structure trying to track him down.

I was about to send Jonny in to go find him, when he suddenly appeared by my leg. He latched onto me and wouldn’t let go. I mean… there WERE a lot of kids around. This was quite the commotion. I could understand his unease. At least I found him. Crisis averted.

But what was this?

His cheeks were flushed like he had been… crying?

Why had he been crying? I had just seen him a couple minutes earlier and he had seemed… okay?

I picked him up. His little heart was beating a mile a minute. What on earth??

“He’s scared.”

I turned to find a middle-aged woman standing behind me. She was wearing the school colors with a PTA logo on her sweatshirt and had on face-painted whiskers and sported a “tiger ears” headband… This was the gal that had greeted us at the door.

“What’s that?” I asked, genuinely confused.

“I found him wandering the parking lot.”

What?…

Wait…

WHAT???

What did she just say?

My heart started to pound. It felt like an out of body experience. Like she was talking to someone else that looked like me…because my son was IN THIS PLAY STRUCTURE.

I was sure of it… …and yet…

There he was… Obviously not.

It didn’t even register to me. That couldn’t have been my child. How had he gotten outside??

I felt a sickening feeling settle into the pit of my stomach. It hit me like a ton of bricks.

Panic, fear, and intense relief hit me all at the same time.

How had I missed him leaving the play structure? How had he not seen me? How could this have happened?

Someone was speaking to me. My ears were registering the sound, but I just held my boy trying to process what had just transpired in the last 60 seconds or so.

She was talking, apparently to me…

“…saw him walk out with a gentleman, and I thought he was with him. But he went in a different direction. Then he started looking frantically around, running in different directions in the middle of the street…So I called him over and he came to me. He was crying.”

I could not process the rest of what she said.

Because my mind chose that instant to play the most bone-chilling macabre game of “what if…”

Apparently, Jonah knew it was time to leave, and upon not being able to find us in the mob as he exited the play structure, assumed we had left him and he panicked. So he ran outside to look for us in a jam-packed parking lot, in the middle of the road.

And I went numb with the possibilities. My son’s very life had been in danger. And I hadn’t even known.

All the tracking technology in the world would not have helped in that instant.

But for the grace of God and a school mascot door-greeter.

A guardian angel.

Her name is Ms. Susan and she teaches kindergarten. Jonah has only gone to school for a month but he must have recognized her beneath all the “spirit wear.”

I thank God she was there. I thank God Jonah came to her when she called.

I thank God I can sit here and tell you about it… because this could EASILY have been the worst night of my life.

Tonight, at bedtime, Jonah clung to me a bit longer, wrapping both his arms and legs around me… just wanting me to hold him. And I tucked him into bed and just looked at him for a long while.

And I find… I don’t care about Disneyland. I don’t care about the stress or the anxiety, or the plane flights or the crowds or chaos…

I’m just thankful my son is sleeping in his bed. That he is present with us. That he is safe and sound.

And I thank God for another day my family is happy and whole.”

Because unbeknownst to us, despite all the preparations we were making, it would happen once again just a few days later at the worst possible time in the worst possible place.

…Yes. In just three short days, we would lose Jonah AGAIN…

This time at “The happiest place on Earth.” 😳

#autism #elopement

Original Facebook Post.