A few hours ago, there was a shooting at an elementary school in Connecticut. It has been weighing heavily on my mind and in my heart since I first heard about it on the radio a few hours ago and I know it will take a long time for me to move on from it. I immediately called DH and told him. When I pulled into the driveway thirty seconds later and walked into the house, he was already watching the news.
I'm not going to go into great detail about the shooting here, as anyone who is interested in the horrible specifics can tune into the news or turn on the radio. My mother called me two minutes after I had gotten home and said, "There was a..." I cut her off mid-sentence and said, "I know Mom, we've already heard and we have the news on." And then I started crying and said, "Mom, I can't stop thinking about my children." This tragedy hits very close to home for us, both physically and emotionally. My heart physically aches for the people who have already lost their lives, for the many families who's lives will forever be altered because of this. I can't stop thinking about how this could happen anywhere, that we are not immune to violence and ugliness and bloodshed; that our children are not immune to it.
It is truly and completely the stuff of my worst nightmares.
There have been times when my children have gotten hurt and I've wanted to cry. There have been times when I only anticipated their pain and it has effected me emotionally. I imagined the children today, going about their regular schedules, creating art projects in preparation for the upcoming holidays, happy as only children know how to be. Innocent. And then the blood and the death, oh god. I heard one report that talked about how the police officers leading children out of the school asked them to hold each others' hands and close their eyes. They didn't want them to see the carnage. And I cried for them. I'm crying for them now. I keep writing lines and then erasing them because nothing I say seems right.
Sometimes, my kids are running around, and they're so joyful and alive, and then all of sudden one of them falls and gets hurt. And for some reason, there is something in those moments that pains me even more greatly than usual and I've never been able to put my finger on why: it's as though there is something worse about someone feeling pain in a moment that was otherwise peaceful and happy and joyful than there is when they see it coming. There's something terrible about not being able to brace ourselves, or those we love from pain. Or more than that, to shield them from it completely.
No parent should have to know the pain of their child's death. I would not wish this kind of tragedy on my worst enemies.
I believe that the details that are sure to make headlines over the next few days, weeks, and months will reveal Truths many people will not want to see or acknowledge. Truths about abuse and diseased minds and disordered thinking.
And I believe, too, that I must issue a warning: If any of DH's FOO or past seeks to use this tragedy as a reason or motivation to contact him, then they will be forfeiting any humanity I might ever have considered attributing to them. If they have ANY souls, the lot of them, they will stay FAR the fuck away from us. Now, more than ever.