The first night.

At 11:30 pm my phone vibrates on the dresser beside my bed.  I hear it but it doesn't register with me.  "Hey," my voice is groggy.   I know its Dorothy, caller ID.  I hear muffled sobs and sniffles and I know she is crying.  I snap to WIDE awake, "Are you OK?" That question snaps my husband wide awake, "What's wrong?"  "I'm scared, I don't know if I can do this?"  Panic and fear cross the miles between us and I want nothing more then for her to be in her room,  just across the hall,  so I can hug her.  It takes some coaxing but soon she calms down and feels better.  The little girl is in the big scary world, alone.  I have to pretend it's fine, tell her she can do it.  When my heart just wants to go back in time about 15 years to when she would crawl in my bed, scared of the dark.  We whisper on the phone for a long time.  Dad falls back to sleep and we are all together in heart and mind.  When we hang up she sounds much better.  I lie awake knowing, while she is away, I will never really sleep soundly again.