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I’ll never forget the moment I woke up to a text from my 22-year-old daughter, sent at 4:00 am. It read, “Hi Mom. I know it’s late. I’m at Kyle’s house. Love you. Sorry. I’ll be home tomorrow morning. Thanks.”
It struck me as strange that the message came from her Gmail rather than her cell phone. And what was with the “Thanks?”
I nudged my groggy husband and showed him the text. He informed me that he had checked the alarm system and saw someone entered our home around 3:20 am and left around 3:30 am.
I called her cell. I texted her. I even emailed her Gmail. Nothing.
Checking her room, I saw her phone charger, overnight bag, and toothbrush were still there—items I would have expected her to take if she was truly staying overnight somewhere.
My husband checked the Find My Phone app, which we had instructed her to keep on at all times. It read, “Not Located.”
Trying to dismiss my anxiety, I went about my day, reminding myself she had told me what she was doing. She had gone out with a friend after work and would surely be home. Perhaps her phone was just dead, and she was sleeping peacefully.
Yet, that nagging feeling persisted. I called, texted, and checked the Find My Phone app continuously throughout the morning amidst my regular chores.
A few hours later, her phone pinged—showing it was in North Carolina. We live in Florida. Panic engulfed me like a wave.
I dashed to my husband’s office, urging him to check the security camera footage. There was nothing. I insisted he contact the security company to find out why there was no footage, emphasizing it was an emergency.
In sheer terror, I called 911. The dispatcher peppered me with questions. Who was she last seen with? What did the vehicle look like? Where had they gone?
But therein lay the problem. I didn’t know the last name of the guy she was with, nor his address or phone number. I had no idea where they’d gone for drinks.
My daughter had recently moved back in with us while transitioning between schools, asking us to treat her like an adult. So when she told me she was going out with a friend and would be home by 1:00 am, I merely said, “Be safe, see you in the morning.”
As I spoke to the dispatcher, I relayed what little information I could, struggling to suppress my panic.
Moments later, an officer called to gather more details as he made his way to us. He asked if anyone else might know where she was or have more info about her friend.
Her BEST FRIEND! While I was on the landline with the officer, I dialed her best friend on my cell. She revealed that my daughter had also texted her at 4:00 am, mentioning she had lost her phone and hadn’t heard from her since.
Fortunately, she knew the last name of the friend my daughter was with. We relayed that information to the officer, who quickly identified him and found his contact information.
He assured me he would call that number and update us as soon as possible.
Shortly after hanging up with the officer, an unfamiliar number called me.
“Mom, it’s me. I’m okay.” Relief washed over me, and I began to cry. The officer had tracked them down.
She explained that around 1:00 am, as her friend was about to drop her off, he stopped to get gas. While he was refueling, she got out too, and her phone fell out of her pocket.
A few miles down the road, she realized it was missing. They went back, but it was gone. She returned home to get her computer to track it but didn’t want us to worry about losing her phone. So, she simply told me she wasn’t coming home without explaining why.
The friend was trying to assist her, but little did they know that my husband and I were under the impression we were tracking my daughter through North Carolina, when in reality, we were tracking her lost phone.
The lesson here is simple: I told my daughter that while I understand her desire for independence, this is about safety.
If my daughter had been taken to North Carolina instead of her phone, I would have blamed myself forever. Phones can be replaced; daughters cannot.
Moving forward, we established a new plan. This isn’t about me controlling her or treating her like a child; it’s about protecting her and safeguarding my peace of mind.
Now, whenever she goes out, I have the full name, phone number, and address of her companion. I also know their destination.
This time, she got it. She understood.
To all parents of young adults: I know you want to give your kids the space they crave. However, knowing who they’re with when leaving your home, at any age, isn’t an invasion of privacy. It’s essential for answering questions that a 911 dispatcher may ask—questions I hope you never have to face.
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Summary:
A mother’s harrowing experience of her daughter’s night out, compounded by a lost phone, emphasizes the importance of communication and safety measures for young adults. Establishing clear plans and knowing who their children are with can be crucial for peace of mind.