Newtown

I honestly thought I’d have a piece on the shooting in Newtown, Connecticut by now. I’ve contemplated the events and considered what I’d write about for the last couple of days. My emotions on the subject are still too raw to put it all properly into words. Perhaps later this week my thoughts will meet the keyboard the way I’d like them to. I was shocked on Friday, I think I still am. My heart breaks for the families of those who were killed, and the children and community who is left to try and put the pieces back together. I could not wait to hug my children when they arrived home from school on Friday. I spent the weekend avoiding media, and just enjoying the time with them.

Today, I tried to get past the shock and hurt, and begin writing letters and placing phone calls to my government representatives. As I tweeted earlier today, “It’s a lot easier to talk about turning our sadness and fears into action and change than it is to actually do so. I for one am a little stuck.” I still am. I hope tomorrow or in another day or two, this feeling of sorrow will turn into a fiery passion. I know it will, I’m just not certain how long that will take. I feel the time to discuss the issue of gun control and mental healthcare in our country is now. It is my belief that the best way to honor those lost, especially the twenty children who died, is to ensure nothing like that ever happens again. We owe it to all our children.

I took a deep breath this morning as I dropped my kids off at school. I know they are safe. I hope they are safe. I told myself it was all okay. It was when I walked up to the school with my middle-schooler that I saw the flag at half mast. My heart immediately got heavy. I sighed to myself and chatted to my daughter about the weather. I said goodbye to her just outside the school office. As I watched her walk down the hallway to her class, I saw a police officer in a SWAT-style uniform patrolling the school lobby. I felt like I’d been punched in the gut. I had to take another deep breath and compose myself. This should never be normal for our children.

Remembering The Victims

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