I'm still writing about this, fresh as it is.
Each morning thereafter I wake up from nightmares,
I wake with a pit in my stomach
that becomes a waterfall of tears before noon.
I've done good about staying away from the news.
But I know it's out there.
My husband tells me a little.
I see things (accidentally) on the internet.
But the one thing I have been very clear about avoiding,
are the faces,
the faces of the children.
the children who were not protected from harm.
The children that could have belonged to anyone.
Today I saw a face. I didn't mean to.
A six year old named Jessica.
My first reaction was to quickly shut down the screen,
but I didn't. I lingered.
I cried, hard.
Sweet little 6 year old Jessica.
I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry.
I won't lie to you, sometimes it feels really hard to exist in a world
where children get shot,
knowing that the love of my life, my beautiful daughter,
goes out there, in the world, and that I can not shield her from all harm.
This breaks me in such a way that I can not articulate.
My heart hurts, and I know I do not stand alone.
Sometimes in the midst of a broken heart
the answers do not come readily
(though you search high and low for them)
perhaps because sometimes
there are no answers.
If you see me, know that I am not a puddle of tears.
I get by in the world.
I feel joys of Christmas with my family
and my friends.
But I, like so many others, am grieving
I am grieving for children I do not know
and I'm grieving for the ability to keep our children safe
at all times.
My days are riddled with moments of tears
and with these tears comes a release that I know I need.
And of course, there is gratitude,
the sweeping love of my beautiful family,
the even breathing patterns
the innumerable hugs
the warm flesh that I press my lips into.
This is all salve for a broken heart,
salve that I am fortunate to have,
knowing there are so many others who
don't get that luxury anymore.
(It's just not fair)..