I have struggled to think about how I might write about the events in Connecticut. My thoughts are jumbled in my mind and heart.
I was struck by people's comments about the shock of this happening in such an idyllic, suburban location. Personally, I'd still be in shock if this happened in Chicago, Dallas or Kigali.
My eyes filled with tears last night at our school's Christmas pageant. I hid them behind the lens of our camera as I filmed my 5 year old angel singing his little heart out, with his cousins as two adorable sheep a few rows over. I feel guilty crying about it when I know that my five are safe.
I kept it from the kids as much as possible. I talked to each of the big kids individually about it and didn't say anything to L. I let them lead the discussions. They mostly asked the question I can't answer. Why?
We don't have guns in our house. We don't play with fake guns. We don't have any first person violent video games in our house and never will.
Friday made me realize, however, that none of that matters. Bad things can still happen. Sigh.
My heart is heavy for all of the families effected...those grieving, those who survived and the valiant first responders who had to face the bloodshed and act with dispassion and compassion at the same time.
I guess I do have some words. Unfortunately, none of them seem adequate to describe the horror that occurred in that school.