MOTHER – female
Lights come up on MOTHER.
When news of the World Trade Centers started flashing across the TV my heart sank. My son John was traveling for business. I frantically thumbed through the papers on my desk to find his flight information, willing myself to keep it together. He was fine. I was just overreacting, but the panic was hard to numb.
Momentary relief washed over me with the knowledge that he was not on flight 175, or 77, or 11, or 93. But just as quickly I wondered where the hijacking would end. How many other planes would be crashed into buildings before the madness ended? My son certainly had no idea what was going on outside his plane. What if his was next?
The only force that could calm my racing heart was prayer. I was desperate for any word from my son. I didn’t want to face a life without him, but I was helpless to protect him. Only Jesus could. I waited at home praying and pacing around the phone until eleven o’clock, when I got the call.
“Yes! John . . . John. . . are you alright?”
“Yeah. Our plane was grounded in Nevada. I don’t know exactly when I’ll be back in Chicago . . . We’re getting very little information. I think they’re shutting down the airports.”
“Yes dear they are. It’s horrible, what they’re showing on TV. Thank you, thank you so much for calling . . . I’m so glad you’re okay.”
“I know. Me too. I love you Mom.”
“I love you too.”
With one phone call my worries were set to rest, and for a moment I cried tears of joy, but that joy was overshadowed by what we lost as a country. I mourned for the passengers lost on the planes, and those killed in the towers, and the fallen firefighters, and the families who would never be the same again. I mourned for my country, because she had been so incredibly wounded.
Lights fade on MOTHER. MOTHER exits.