I’ve been really conflicted on what to write about all that has been going on. I am devastated for the mother’s of those children. They have toys hidden away in closets for Christmas that will never be opened. They have rooms full of cherished possessions and shoes scattered across the floor and breakfast dishes in the sink.
When you have kids they completely infiltrate your life until you cannot imagine a world without them in it. They become the most important people in your life. Ever. If something happened to Molly or Brady I would never be the same and would go to my deathbed in pain. I would die inside if I knew my kids needed me or were scared and calling for me and I couldn’t help them. That is what scares me about all this. The mother’s that feel like they weren’t there and who had to wait to claim their children back.
I am not the person who tweats condolences or changes my Facebook photo to memorial pictures. I feel that it is empty and meaningless because it will never make it better or make those parents feel better. I don’t judge others that do. It’s just not for me. It doesn’t matter how many vigils are held, how many hashtags are created, or how many donations are made. It is never going to help those parents in their grief. I feel my heart is with those parents who lost children and I can’t help them. No one can. I can hug my children tighter, be thankful every second that it was not my child, but saying that seems like a slap in their face. Because it was their child and life is over as they knew it.
I hope I don’t offend anyone with this post, these are my thoughts and opinions and represent my feelings on this horrifying massacre. Everyone deals with grief differently. I know I plan on being more grateful for my children, I plan on being more proactive with their school’s safety and I will have a day of silence on Tuesday along with many other bloggers.
I know it’s not enough. But that is all I can do.