All those firsts

As I'm sure everyone knows, recently there was another shooting in a school. This time, it was in an elementary school. Sandy Hook elementary school in Connecticut. Twenty children and six adults lost their lives. I can't even begin to imagine sending my child to school, a place that is supposed to be a safe place, and not having him come home. I just don't understand it. I can't understand it. I'm not sure I will ever understand it. All those lives that were yet to be lived. All those firsts that never got to be--first kisses, first dances, first time driving a car, first jobs, first loves, graduations, weddings, babies, grandbabies. Children and parents. All gone. All because some guy got his hands on some guns and took out his frustrations on some innocent people. Parents aren't supposed to outlive their children. No parent should know the grief of burying a child. Not one. And now there are twenty six more sets (for the children were not the only ones with parents) of parents that unfortunately do. Twenty sets of parents that won't get to wake up on Christmas morning ever again and see those excited faces. How I wish I could just scoop them up in my arms and hold them. But I know it wouldn't help much, if at all.

When I read the news, I was shocked. My heart took a heavy hit and I just couldn't stop thinking about my two boys. Several times throughout the past week, I have been in tears. And if E saw, he would come to me and put his sweet, little hand on my face, give me a kiss, and say, "Okay mama. Okay." And that would just make me break down yet again. There are twenty families that will never have a sweet, little hand on their faces again. Twenty families who will never have a sweet, little voice tell them that it's okay. Twenty families who will never hear crying in the middle of the night, or need to tell a little one to go back to bed. Twenty families who will never get unexpected hugs, or little homemade cards. Twenty families who will not be waiting up late for their teenager to get home. Twenty families who will not get to see a sweet child grow up into a beautiful adult. And then there are those brave teachers who died trying to protect their students. How would I have handled it as a teacher? I don't know. I can only hope that I never have to make those choices, and if I do, that I can be as brave as they were.

Most of our children see school as being a safe place. They are there for seven hours a day, five days a week. That's thirty five hours a week. As a teacher, often, I saw the kids more in a day than their parents did. I saw children grow and learn many things before their parents did. I grew to love my class, even the students who tested me beyond my limits. I can't imagine the terror those teachers must have had to make those choices, the terror they must have had for their own lives and for those of their students.

I have been so grateful that E and A are still so young and that I do not have to make any hard choices about how to explain this to them.  I am also grateful that I didn't have to send them off to school today. Several of my momstown mama friends had to send their children to school this past week, and I can only imagine how they felt. It must have been so hard to not just keep them home and hold them tight. But, at least they have the option of sending them off to school. What I can't imagine is how those families are going to feel when they wake up on Tuesday to silence instead of their child's laughter.