There are no words that can fully describe the mountain of grief and despair that I feel, that every person I’ve spoken to feels, that so many in our country feel, and really in the world, about the tragedy that took place last Friday in Newtown, CT. Twenty children and six adults.
Those families should be celebrating the holidays and looking forward to the New Year, not planning and attending a funeral. Certainly not for an innocent child, or any of the brave women who died trying to protect them.
I’ve mostly kept my reading about the events to news articles, but I know that blogs and websites of all types have been posting about the horrific massacre. This has hit all of us so hard. I’ve been unsure how to handle it here, in this space. At first I thought about just waiting a few days and then continuing my usual posts, but that seemed wrong. How could I not at least acknowledge what is so clearly on the forefront of so many of our minds, and hanging so heavy in our hearts?
As a mom of two young children, there is nothing I fear more than having one of my children die before me. There is an order to things, and that is not it. I remember my own mom, who passed away at age 58, saying that very thing to me when she’d hear about a missing or murdered child. I understood her then, but never more clearly than I do now. A mother should not have to write her child’s obituary.
My heart is aching for those families, for their loved ones, for that entire community.
There has been a lot of talk about gun control and mental health, both which clearly merit more discussion and change, but that’s not what this post is about. This post is about sorrow, empathy, and also gratitude for what I have.
Night time around our home is no easy feat. Every element can be a battle, from toothbrushing to vitamin-taking to how many bedtime stories to the inevitable weepy declarations from our daughter about how she does not like to sleep. There are often tears and tantrums. And I’m not just talking about from the kids. But ever since Friday I have been thinking about those poor grief-stricken parents in Newtown, how they would no doubt give anything in the world to get back these kind of mundane and tedious struggles. To put their child to bed.
My gratitude is here.
My regular posts will return in a day or two, and it will be a relief in a way to talk about gluten of all things, but this is where my mind and heart will be.