Senseless

I know I haven’t been posting much lately, and I’ll probably say that again for a while.  (Our LEGO team made it to State = another month of practices)

But, in light of what happened a week ago in Connecticut, writing about my successes, troubles and concerns just doesn’t seem important.  I have boys that are in kindergarten and second grade.  For the last week all I can do is think about how lucky I am that they come home every night.  When I’m annoyed or frustrated with them, I remember that at least they are here to annoy and frustrate me.

There are 20 families who would give anything to be in my shoes right now.   I know that, and it’s humbling.

What happened in Connecticut was senseless.  Some have said unimaginable, but, sadly, it’s not that impossible to imagine.  That’s part of what haunts me, imagining what those beautiful children experienced.  But my heart keeps turning back, not to those children, but to their parents.  I just can’t comprehend how anyone could look at a 6 year old and pull the trigger.

A week later, I still find myself with tears in my eyes if I think about it too much.  I’ve avoided all the TV coverage, because I honestly can’t think of a reason why it would be healthy or informative for me to hear all the gory details over and over again.

I’m here planning for Christmas, wrapping presents (actually I haven’t started yet…) and thinking of the future.  20 families are looking at their child’s Christmas presents that won’t ever be opened (6 more families are probably doing the same thing for the adults who were killed).

My kids aren’t affected.  They asked me what happened and I told them the truth, without embellishment or extra emotion.

“A man went into a school with a gun.”

“Did he shoot people?”

“Yes, he did.”

“Did he shoot any kids?”

“Yes, he did.”

That was all they asked.  Later my kindergartner asked what the name of the school was, and where it is located.  But that was all.  I told them if they ever have any questions, to just ask me and I’ll answer as honestly as I can.  I’m glad that they aren’t overly curious, although I’m a bit surprised at that.

Yesterday we had a big snow storm.  The school let out a bit earlier than normal, and due to the weather I wasn’t sure when the bus would make it home.  I was a bit anxious waiting for them to get home; I knew the roads were treacherous, having just driven home on them myself.  I couldn’t help but think at the same time how incredibly lucky I am, how blessed my life, that the biggest concern of the day was what time my kids’ bus would get home.

My heart is whole, but it aches for those who are enduring the worst pain a parent could suffer.  I can’t imagine anything as horrible as what they must be feeling.  Each night I hug my babies a bit tighter, knowing that I can never predict what the next day will bring.

I don’t even know how to end this post.  I can’t say something uplifting, like “there are 20 new angels in heaven.”  I am sitting here staring at the screen, waiting for the right words to appear.

But there are no right words for this emotion.  No way to right this wrong.

It’s just senseless.

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