Dear Marge

At 6:27 this evening a ding dong rang through the house.  I was startled because who the heck comes and rings our door bell that late in the night.  It's not late at all I know.  When I opened it a sweet elderly woman dressed in a cheery purple sweater was smiling back at me.  Let's back up a bit...

Quinne has been teething pretty bad this week.  Today has been a bad day.  A day that had me checking the clock every ten minutes hoping the time would be significantly later than it really was.  I'm so pooped out and the day was pressing down on me in a physical way.  It was 5:58 when I looked at the clock after setting Quinne in her highchair for dinner.  At the exact moment I looked out the window and saw an elderly woman holding onto our fence and looking around confused.  I thought I should go out and make sure she was ok.  Or ask her if she needed help.  I was abruptly pulled from my thoughts with a scream of starvation.  Well, not starvation but it was dramatic and I rushed to her with sweet potatoes in hand.  Just like that I forgot about my little old lady in purple.  But not for long.  

It's 6:27 and we're getting ready to head to the bathroom for Quinnes bath, and the door bell is ringing.  I was startled to see the same woman that was holding onto the fence standing in front of me.  How long had that been?  What the heck is going on??  She started to tell me that she was lost and didn't know where she lived.  Instantly my heart went out to her.  What a scary, lonely feeling to be lost.  As I ushered her into the house and swatted the dogs off of her, I heard her say she'd been sitting the our car, wondering what to do.  What the what?  She was sitting in our car.  We never leave our cars unlocked, but it must have been fate that I would not lock it tonight.  She needed a place to sit down and catch her breath, and my car happened to be the car she chose to sit in.  And I'm happy it was mine she chose.  Because you see, our neighbors aren't that friendly and probably would've thrown her back on the street.  She came in and sat on the couch while I asked her a bunch of questions.  Quinne entertained her with her cute babble and showed her all her books we were just reading on the floor.  The only thing that seemed to make sense was to get in the car and drive around until something looked familiar.  But of course nothing looked familiar.  She had alzheimers and didn't really know what was going on.  But she sure was a funny lady.  She called herself a dingbat and crazy old lady more than a few times, and we had a few laughs about our wild goose chase.  She was so sweet and I was happy to help her out.  I wanted to figure this out possibly more than she did at this point!  It was getting dark and Quinne had fallen asleep, and we weren't any closer than when we first began.

I stared to get worried.  From the darkening sky and the weird stuff Marge was saying.  I asked her question after question about where she lived, what she was doing, was she in a safe place, was she scared, did someone do something to her.  I was a detective.  A broken record that was starting to get frustrated and scared.  My mind went to the scary part where you imagine the worst possible scenario.  So I called David.  He told me to go to the police.  They would handle it from here.  I was hesitant.  What if they couldn't figure out where she lived.  I imagined her in a cell waiting for answers and I couldn't bare it.  We pulled over and I asked her if she was ok with me going to the police station, and she said sure.  So that's just what we did.  I locked her and Quinne in the car and ran to the black phone outside the station.  I explained the story to the dispatcher and she told me that Marge was reported missing by her daughter and she had a bad case of alzheimer.  I instantly started crying.  I was so happy for Marge, and relieved someone that loves her was worried for her.  We waited for her daughter in the parking lot and talked about babies and the fog.  When her daughter arrived I got out and explained the story, everyone laughing and hugging.  Her daughter was so grateful, and I cried some more.  

As they drove away I was so confused and happy all at the same time.  What a wild and weird thing to happen tonight.  I met a sweet, dear woman and made her feel comfortable and safe.  I'm so glad that it was my car she sat in.  

So, Quinne if you read this one day I hope you take a few things from it.  Always help out those in need.  Always have a warm and loving heart, because you never know who will need it.  And before you become a private investigator, call the police.  

Love, 
Noelle