Monday, December 17, 2012
I don't know how many times I have cried since last Friday. Too many times. It is amazing to me the capacity we have to grieve for people we don't know. It happened for me when Princess Diana died, and during 9/11, and again now. Since my children were born, there were times when I felt like there was a part of me that was missing or damaged. I heard people talk about how they immediately bonded with their babies as soon as they were born. Maybe it is because, with three at once, there was too much going on to have the luxury to just spend time with one baby, so I didn't feel like I had that bond with each one. I am not saying at all that I didn't feel a bond - but I feel as they have gotten older, my bond with them has grown exponentially.
On Friday, though, when I heard about Sandy Hook Elementary School, I realized that part of me that I often wondered about WAS there, and it was in pain. I have realized since Friday that for me personally, I experienced a grief that I could not have felt before I had children. Please don't misunderstand. I am not saying AT ALL that those without children are not experiencing grief - I am merely applying what I feel to my own self.
I have realized since Friday how precious my time with my children are, and how many times I have let trivial things get in the way of that time. How many times I have gotten upset over things that just aren't worth it. How many times I have yelled at my kids needlessly, for just being kids. I feel ashamed. Ashamed and guilty.
My heart breaks for the parents and loved ones of the victims, especially at this time of year, when those children were so excited to celebrate their upcoming holidays. My heart breaks for the town of Newtown, whose residents have taken down their Christmas decorations. My heart breaks for Adam Lanza, who, according to one article I read, would slink down the hallway at his high school with his back to the wall, not speaking to anyone. I know what he did was horrific, but he was a person tortured with his own demons.
I don't know what the answer is. I don't know what I can do to help those in pain. I only know that I can revel in Christmas lights and Charlie Brown Christmas music. I only know that I can hold my three little birds a little tighter, and say thank you, God, for what I have.