thoughts that come out of nowhere

Today, in church, shortly before the Lord's Prayer the big guy had to take Estella out so the rest of the congregation could pray in peace.

That left me alone with the other 3 children.
We were now placed in the order of Maria, Logan, me, and Samuel.
I was between my two boys.

During the Lord's Prayer I had a flashback memory:

Logan was 2 and Samuel was an infant.  In the crook of one arm I had the carseat with Samuel in it. I had my purse and a heavy duffel bag slung over my shoulder, and with my free hand I was clutching onto Logan's little hand.  We were walking outside in the middle of the night.  It was pitch dark, and I was terrified.  Terrified of who I was running from and where I was running to.  I couldn't see well enough to immediately find the car, and I couldn't see if the person we were running from were to come out and find us leaving.  I was saying silent and desperate prayers.  Little Logan was holding onto my hand so tightly, trusting me, and knowing to be silent... only very quietly whispering, "Mama? ... Mama?" He was so scared and confused.  Yet he didn't cry or protest. He didn't ask where we were going, why I woke him in the middle of the night, or why we were outside in the dark in our pajamas... he only needed the reminder and reassurance that it was me who he was blindly following. 

I shook my head to get the memory out, and I fought back tears as I stood there holding Logan's hand so tightly once again several years later.  And there, standing on my other side, was my Samuel, who was oblivious as to what was going on that night so many years ago.  Needless to say I did find my way to the car that night.  And we're all okay.  We are amazing.