Monday, December 17, 2012

Light Slices Through The Darkness

My Mother-In-Law handed me the piece of paper that held the darkest of black ink. I never finished reading all the words. I read the names of myself and my husband and then the names of my sweet Emmy and Vivi. I sat it down and quickly walked outside - foolishly thinking I could run from the reality.

The reality that I would never see their names on a report card, an invite to one of their birthday parties, a graduation announcement or on their wedding invitations hit me with great force.

I would see their names in the darkest of inks in the section of a newspaper no parent ever wants to see their children's names and I would see their names carved in stone.

There are some realities that are just too real to accept.

And so, I say their names often, in the middle of a conversation, in prayer, in talking to my children about their sisters. I write their names as often as I can here and other places.

They are so much more than black ink and cold stone. 

Twenty children died the other day. Seven innocent women died along with them. Some of those women were kids themselves, just beginning their lives. Those women were daughters, sisters, mothers and wives.

Twenty-seven innocent people died at the hands of evil.

I can't wrap my head around it.

There is a lot I can't wrap my head around anymore.

They deserve to be honored. Their families that are left in the wreckage deserve for them to be honored.

Their names will be bleeding in that black ink and carved in hard stone.

Sadly, to me, their names are also linked to that horrific event that took place on a Friday morning.

They are so much more than that. 

Whose name will be uttered more in the media? The names of those innocent twenty-seven? Or the name that will sadly be remembered longer?

Their names will be linked to a horrific event and their names will be uttered along with agendas and policies as a way to defend someones stance.

It angers me. Unless the parents, spouses, or children of those twenty-seven choose to connect their loved ones names with such a stance, we, the general public, should not. We should not take it upon ourselves to use their names as a way to add weight to what we believe to be "right".

They are so much more than that.

Each one of those twenty-seven innocent were anxiously awaited for. Their parents watched them take their first breath. There was joy and excitement over first words and first steps. They were held in the middle of the night through bad dreams and illness. They were pushed on swings as their parents delighted in laughter that filled their worlds. Tears rolled down the cheeks of those parents as they watched their child march into school for the first time.

For six more, there were middle school dances, first dates, proms and high school graduations. More tears rolling down the cheeks of those parents as they dropped them off at college. There were college graduations. There were first loves to wedding days. And for some, there were babies.

I want them to be remembered for the people that they were and the people they wanted to become. I want their parents and loved ones to have that freedom.

I pray that the ones left behind are given the space and the freedom to grieve in their own ways.

I pray that the media leaves them alone.

These individuals were living their lives. They didn't ask for this. They didn't ask for their loved ones to be ripped from their lives and then be sensationalized.

They are so much more than that.

The reality for them is that their loved ones names will bleed black ink on a newspaper page, be carved in black stone and also be connected to the shooters and yet another school shooting.

How do you wrap your head around that?

The innocent twenty-seven deserve to be honored. I want to honor each individual. I was reading another blog yesterday where I found the way in which I will do it. For the next twenty-seven nights, from 8:30 pm to 8:40 pm, I will light a candle and remember and pray for one of the innocent each night. I will write their names down on a sheet paper and place it next to the lit candle.

Here are the names along with some words to help us know who they were if you choose to join me.

Charlotte Bacon 6                                            
Daniel Barden 7                                              
Rachel D'Avino 29                                            
Olivia Engel 6                                                  
Josephine Gay 7                                              
Ana Marquez-Greene 6                                    
Dylan Hockley 6                                              
Dawn Hochsprung 47                                    
Madeleine F. Hsu 6                                          
Catherine V. Hubbard 6
Chase Kowalski 7
Jesse Lewis 6
James Mattioli 6
Grace McDonnell 7
Anne Marie Murphy 52
Emilie Parker 6
Jack Pinto 6
Noah Pozner 6
Caroline Previdi 6
Jessica Rekos 6
Avielle Richman 6
Lauren Rousseau 30
Mary Sherlach 56
Victoria Soto 27
Benjamin Wheeler 6
Allison N. Wyatt 6
Nancy Lanza 52


Friday, December 14, 2012

Another Ordinary Day



The heart pumps with each contraction.

I've been there. I may not have been standing outside a school waiting . . . hoping . . . praying that my child would walk out but I have been there. I have been there waiting . . . hoping . . . praying that the unimaginable outcome would not become real.

For twenty-seven families today, their hearts are left bleeding heavy.

Why . . .

How . . .

What if . . .

If only . . .

Just another ordinary day with half eaten breakfasts, shuffling to find that other sock, making sure teeth are brushed, grabbing backpacks and counting down the days left until Christmas break. Just another ordinary day that turned itself inside out and became extraordinary. Extraordinarily awful. Extraordinarily horrible. Extraordinarily unexplainable. Extraordinarily painful.

So many want answers. So many want something to be done.

Answers will come and things will get accomplished.

But for those left in the wake of all this . . . those that have had their normal lives destroyed in a flash, the answers will sit empty. Never satisfying. Never truly answering the questions that don't make sense. The things that will be achieved will not be good enough because all the works and deeds will not be able to accomplish the one thing . . . the only thing they desperately want . . . that of their child walking out of that school and wrapping still growing arms around their parents neck.

How do you explain something that defies any realities?

How do you accept that you can't turn back the clock?

How do you learn to live a life that was a part of your worst nightmares? 

How do you learn to live again?



May the heart pump with each painful contraction.



Related Posts Plugin for WordPress, Blogger...