I still cannot even speak the words.
Like all of you, I’ve been reading about it since the horrific news flashed across my computer screen on Friday morning. I’ve even gone on live television and have written a column for my local newspaper discussing ways to talk with your children about this tragedy.
But still…I can’t even bear to say the words.
20 children taken too soon. Killed just like that. An entire first grade class…gone.
I thought my husband and I would sit and talk about it late one night after the kids were safely tucked into bed. But there aren’t any words. It’s too inconceivable. Too scary. Too…tragic.
Nothing I could say or want to say seems right.
I see my friends and all we can manage is…I can’t believe it…and our voices trail off unable to continue without choking back tears. We have to change the subject because there.are.no.words. And our kids are around. And they’re 5, 6, and 7…just like those sweet children at Sandy Hook Elementary School.
Now when I meet the eyes of every parent and teacher, I can feel it. We’re altogether somber and grateful. There are no words, but the thoughts are overwhelming.
That could have easily been my child’s school. No place is safe. How will those families survive this? Why did this happen?
Why those children?
Where do we go from here?
And the onslaught of thoughts never cease. I see the faces of those 20 children. They look like my children. The Christmas music playing in my car is suddenly eerie and disconcerting. I can barely catch my breath imagining that kind of loss. Then I pass by my son’s elementary school where the flag hangs at half mast and the tears just start flowing.
Still, no words even come close. Everything I want to say could never be enough….
But my thoughts are loud and they want to encircle Newtown in love and prayer. They want to remember every single child who now graces the skies above. They don’t want to move on and forget. They want to shout out loud what a mess our world has become. Because it feels that way when darkness takes away such pure light.
Everything seems tenuous and more fragile than ever.
But unable to speak the unspeakable, we grip our children a little tighter instead. We dole out more hugs and hope to counter evil and rage with love and kindness.
And though it might seem like nothing…it’s really everything.