I slowly started to see the tweets coming into my Twitter stream early Friday. I noted them and passed them by, hoping it would come to nothing… hoping it was too far away…. hoping it wouldn’t affect me.
A school shooting.
More tweets came. And more. And more.
And then the numbers started to become a reality. The death toll.
Children.
I couldn’t ignore it any longer. I couldn’t tune out the horrifying events that were unfolding in the world around me – so far away, yet entirely too close in this connected age.
Children not much older than my Cameron never coming home again. Parents finding out that their family will forever be disfigured. Christmas presents forever unopened.
Dear God, no. This is just too horrible. Too unfathomable.
And while all of the hatred and fear and pain were brewing in the air around me, there were my boys, just playing happily in my living room as if the world wasn’t slowly going to shit.
What is this place and time that I have brought them into?
Some days, the world just feels too horrific. Sometimes I wonder if I have introduced my children to this world only to experience hardship and turmoil and debt and destruction. Sometimes I fear how much worse things will get in their lifetimes.
They have no idea the world they are entering.
It is a world where people believe carrying guns should be a right because our society is has more fear than kindness. It is a world where so many suffer because greed is king. It is a world where taking care of ourselves is more important than taking care of others.
It is a world where the most perfectly beautiful things are little children who don’t know that the world is full of nightmares yet.
I wish I have words to justify this in my mind. I wish I could pull some trite lesson from everything that has happened.
I don’t have any of that. Not today and not yesterday and not tomorrow. Instead, I can only sit and cry and hold my children tight.
So much beauty was snuffed out of this world on Friday. And to fill its place, anxiety rushed in. I’ve felt it. I’ve watched it spread from parent to parent. We are all realizing that this world isn’t as gentle to our children as we would like it to be. We are all realizing that our children aren’t safe.
Oh, my boys. My beautiful, precious boys.
I can’t possibly protect them forever. I can’t possibly keep the world from shattering around them. I can’t possibly step in front of every bullet.
But on Friday, I didn’t need to shield bullets. Today, they are still children. They are still innocent. They are still beautiful. They are still here.
I don’t know why I am the lucky one.
I saw how lucky I was as I watched them play on Friday, being little beacons of light in such a darkened world.
I can’t possibly be this lucky every day.
I picked my baby up. On that horrible, dark day, I held him in my arms and I rocked him. I let his head fall onto my shoulder and I placed my cheek on his forehead. Then, I invited his older brother onto the recliner with us. Together we sat, my arms around both of them, just rocking. My whole world, there, in my arms, so small and fragile and innocent. They knew nothing of what was going on in the outside world or what was happening inside their Mama.
Even in the midst of horrible tragedy, I realized that badness had just taken up a portion of our lives. It covered a lot of things, but goodness still shined through. My arms were full up of beauty and joy and light and innocence.
Even when the world shrinks, there are still pockets of beauty.
I can’t make this experience teachable. I never want to have to sit down with my sons and talk about why there is so much horror in our world. But, when I inevitably do have to do this, I hope that they can still see some light in the darkness. Because it is there, at least for us lucky ones.
I am heartbroken. I am grateful. I am blessed.
Well said.
Perspective has a way of changing the ways we see things that were right in front of us all along. And today, in light of the horrid event on Friday and the sadness/darkness/anger/fear and failure to comprehend many aspects of that event that have settled on my heart, I am thankful for my own little beacons, and will strive to show them much more love–daily.
Thank you for writing this post…I feel the same way about bringing my boys into this scary world…where innocent children are murdered for what? They did nothing and just happened to be at school that day. I just didn’t know how to write about my feelings on the subject…and you have done it for me. My heart is broken also…
Natalie recently posted..My Little Man
I don’t know how to forever shield my children from the horrors that the world. I just don’t know how to. It is all so heartbreaking.
Alison recently posted..The Children Who Will Always Be Children
I am trying to remember that there is still so much good in this world, in people. I am holding tight to that and to my faith. It’s the best I can do at a time like this. Oh and to love on and teach my children LOVE, and kindness and that they are worth something and should never feel so lost.
Much love from this Momma to another…
p.s. great to “meet” you this week. :)
I’ve said this many times in the last few days and most people do not know how to respond. When my children were growing up and wanted to have a play date along with other questions I would ask do you have guns in the house if the answer was yes then my children were not permitted in their home. Not in the entrance way not to use the washroom period. I choose to I’ve said this many times in the last few days and most people do not know how to respond. When my children were growing up and wanted to have a play date along with other questions I would ask do you have guns in the house if the answer was yes then my children wee not permitted in their home. Not in the entrance way not to use the washroom period. I choose to teach my children guns are dangerous UNDER ANY CIRCUMSTANCES. Not sure why people think this is wrong to do and people have a right to have guns and I agree, I just don’t want them near my family.
Funny when we as children were growing up my father felt the same way my brothers were not aloud toy guns. That was a few years ago lol. The place to start is to teach your children.
My two youngest were about your boys’ ages during 911. I will never forget the feeling of wanting to shelter them and keep them safe knowing that the world was forever changed. During this tragedy, sadly, they 1are 2 and 14 and I was forced to try to come up with some sort of an explanation and I’m at a loss. Oh Laura, I wish I could tell you that someday you’ll never have to answer their questions that you can’t begin to explain but I fear you’ll be forced to explain the unimaginable at another time…after another heinous day like Friday. Hold them tight. Teach them goodness. Teach them to have empathy. It’s up to us to grow loving, grateful, respectful, wonderful children…and hopefully, God willing, we will raise children who will make a difference.
xo
Very well written, Laura!
While I don’t have young children myself, I still felt such horror at the reality of what happened in CT. I cried for the lost futures of those young ones and for the bravery of their teachers… I don’t think I will ever be able to understand WHY things like these happen.
I feel this, too.
Beautiful, heartfelt words, girl.
Galit Breen recently posted..By Moonlight
This is beautifully written and echoes so many of my own thoughts and fears. I don’t know how to raise a child in today’s world. It’s so unlike my own growing up. I just feel a sense of helplessness. But I’ve resolved to take more of an active stand on issues like gun regulation and mental health awareness – issues on which, as a mother, I feel I can no longer sit by and hope for the best as other people make decisions that affect our society as a whole. I may feel helpless, but I do have a voice. And I’m going to start using it.
Kristin @ What She Said recently posted..Silent Night
I felt so sick that day. We’d come back from a wonderful morning out and when I sat down to the news I couldn’t even wrap my head around it. It didn’t make sense for so long. I too sometimes wonder what I’ve brought my child into–what kind of world this is and why is there so much hate and fear and selfishness? It makes me sick. But I still have to remember that our God is greater than all this. He is still God, He is still here. But oh how it hurts.
Rach (DonutsMama) recently posted..Little Joys