My Heart Hurts for Newtown

The last few days have been bewildering for me. I was glued to the news on Friday as new reports kept coming in. I was confuse and overwhelmed. I had to, at one point, turn it off and walk away. I had to look into the faces around me, and connect. Interact, hug, hold, listen, remind myself where I was.

I cried. My heart swelled with my pain. I shook my head, and didn't know which way to look. I can't say I imagined the pain those parents are experiencing, because I don't want to feel that pain. I didn't put myself in there place, but I hurt thinking of those beautiful children, bounding into school that day, smiles on their faces, and their lives being torn away in second. As bedtime came and I tucked my wee ones in, I thought of the empty beds, of the parents who's lives are filled with this gaping hole, who were maybe looking at those empty  beds, begging every fiber in there body that this was a big bad terrible mistake and their child would come in the front door any minute.....

I have prayed. I have prayed that the families would hold each other in their pain. Weep together, clutch each other, and feel all the things they need to as they move through this. I have prayed that they know, they are not alone. Millions of people across the nation weep, and want to help.

As one day has turned into another I remain bewildered. It doesn't pass or lift, it entangles me. Wrapping around me as different stories come to light. Teachers hiding children in closets, tiny children 'playing' dead, a teaching whispering "I love you" to her students as they hide in a bathroom. She did this in fear that this was their last moments of life and she wanted them to know they were loved. Children crawling across the floor to hide in another room, and teachers throwing themselves in the way of a rain of bullets to protect their students.

 I read threw the news over and over. I think I keep going back to look for answers. That some magic answer will come up so we never have to worry about this again.

It doesn't.

So tonight I sit by my fire, computer on my lap, trying to put my thoughts down, being bewildered, but grateful for all I have.

Newtown, I weep and my heart bleeds.

The death of a baby is like a stone cast into the stillness of a quiet pool;
the concentric ripples of despair sweep out in all directions,
affecting many, many people.
--De Frain, 1991

You are not alone.