Saturday was just like any other Saturday. I slept in to about 7:30, ate some breakfast, then had to shower because we had an oil change scheduled for my car at 9. As you can imagine, it was a normal shower. But when I got out, the boys were joking with each other (which is also typical) and told me to check my phone.
That’s when I found this:
Of course, my initial reaction was that it was fake. Even despite the words, “This is not a drill”. But then we heard the sirens in our housing community going off, and that made me reconsider my original thought.
T told me to put on “utilitarian clothes -not a dress” and get downstairs. Everyone in our house was strangely calm. Truth is, if there was a missile attack, we’d all die. So there’s no real sense in trying to avoid that. There aren’t bomb shelters on this island, and we don’t even have a basement. T and I hugged each other, and said our “I love yous” as if they would be our last. In that moment, as morbid as it sounds, I knew that I would be content dying in his arms.
I updated my family in a group text so they knew what was going on. I didn’t want to freak them out by actually calling. We kept searching the internet for any information, while we listened to the sirens blare out on our patio. Around 8:30 we saw on twitter that it was an error, and there wasn’t a real threat. Unfortunately we didn’t get an emergency text confirming this until 8:45.
Of course it was a relief to know that it was a mistake, but it’s sad to know that this is the world we live in. Unfortunately tomorrow when we return to school, I know that this will be on all my students’ minds. It will weigh them down, and I’ll have to bring them back up. It’s frustrating that this is the world they are growing up in.