The news of yesterday’s horrific events have left me shaken. I have thought a hundred times how I might put my feelings into words, but the truth is that I have none. In times of great tragedy — this shooting in Connecticut, 9/11, and so forth — I become glued to the news trying to understand what happened. Trying to somehow make sense of it all. As details emerge, I only find myself more horrified and saddened.
My heart goes out to all of the families and loved ones affected by yesterday’s events. No child or parent should ever know such suffering.
I’m angry at the news media for interviewing children who were victims of such a heinous crime.
I’m angry at the politicians (both real and imagined) who have already taken this as an opportunity to debate gun control laws.
Our society is broken. So very broken. We live in a day and age where people act out on their feelings without regard for humanity and without an understanding of the basic principles of right and wrong.
Joe and I fought yesterday because he feels like we need to teach our children how to escape from harm. How to run from a shooter. How to hide. I feel like no child should know that this kind of evil in the world exists. I feel like it is not our job as parents to rob them of their innocence in order to give ourselves a false sense of security — to teach them these things so we can hide under the delusion that this could never happen to us because we are “prepared”. I feel like you can’t prepare yourself for the kinds of events you cannot even fathom. And I feel helpless that we will have to send our children into the world to live their lives and pray that they always come home to us.
My children have become my whole life. And, in turn, they are my reason for living. I pray that I never kiss them goodbye for the last time.
We are going to get our Christmas tree today, like we’d planned to do all week, and it feels wrong. It feels wrong to keep going, to celebrate with our children. It feels like I’m pretending that this didn’t happen. Hugging my kids and feeling grateful that this did not happen to us just feels wrong.
Life goes on, even when things change. But as a parent I cannot and do not want to think about the “what if this were me?” questions that keep popping into my head. Somehow hugging my babies a little tighter today does not seem like comfort enough.
