About Them.

15 December 2012

Today, my friend Amy and I got together for lunch and finishing up our Christmas lists.  Grateful for the time to catch up, we were totally unaware of the horrific tragedy unfolding 600 miles away in Newtown, Connecticut.  We talked about Christmas and the boys’ first months of kindergarten and how weird it is to walk into a school and realize that you are not a student anymore, but someone’s mom.

Those twenty mothers and fathers who lost their tiny little children, they were no different than I was this morning.  The struggle to get your child to school fully dressed, with breakfast in their belly, on time, and listening to them happily chatter about show and tell, it is one that every parent of a kindergartener knows all too well. 

That was me.  It was Amy.  It was twenty parents, 600 miles away. 

The only difference was that we were the lucky ones.  Our little kindergarteners walked out of their classroom with all of their silly little friends laughing and calling out goodbyes.  They jumped in the car and chattered happily about a secret little elf leaving a jingle bell in their coat pocket.  We will have another rushed morning, another stubborn moment, another hug, another night walking into their room just to touch them on their foreheads and pull the covers up to their chin.

Please keep in mind that all of the ranting, all of the talk of gun control, the asking of these tiny children to recall horrific events on national news, all of the speculation, the anger, the what ifs, every piece of negative energy we’re putting out there about this… these parents and the families who lost their adults as well… this isn’t helpful to them.  I can not imagine a worse fate for any of these families today.  And to have a thought about any of that bullshit, taking the place of the loving, amazing memories of their children laughing or playing or wrapping their arms around them, is criminal. 

Lift these people up in good thoughts, in prayers, in anything love filled, they need it.  Every last bit you can muster.  They are hurting.  And the rest, the rest can wait.

2 comments:

Just A Normal Mom said...

Well said, Michelle, well said. My heart is heavy and I've been praying for strength for those families - that somehow they find the strength to get through their worst nightmare and somehow can find something to hold onto in the memories of the sweet children or family members.

I turned on the weather this morning and the news was on - interviewing a surviving child from the school. I was horrified. It's not what those families need, it's not what that child needs, and it's most certainly not what America needs. I turned it off.

Jessica @ Acting Adult said...

I cannot even imagine what they're going through - I don't have children but losing someone like that and to then be thrust into the national spotlight while you're grieving. It's unimaginable.

All I can do is hug my nephew, love my family and pray for those little angels. But my heart is heavy.

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