My heavy heart

I have the heaviest of hearts, heavier than an anchor launched from its ship.  I can’t seem to move, frozen in the depths of grief for the families of the victims of the Sandy Hook Elementary School in Newtown, CT.

When I learned of the shootings on Friday, I purposely did not turn on the TV.  I knew if I did, that I would be glued to it and so I would go on line to see what updates were given instead. I did this for the entire weekend.  We had so many plans to get together with friends and family, that I just needed to keep it off.  Not to mention, that I wasn’t ready to share the horrific events with my own 7 year old daughter Emilia and almost 6 year old son Lucas.  But I knew that sharing the events with them was inevitable, but I was buying time.

On Friday night, I did share with them, but very little detail of what happened.  At that time, there weren’t many questions.  Then on Sunday night, Roberto and I sat down with them to share basic information.  The children, their ages, what happened, when, where.  But I couldn’t share why, since I don’t even know that answer.  They were scared, but we reassured them that this was a very uncommon situation and that we will do our best as parents to keep them safe and that their teachers will do the very same.  I also wanted them to hear the truth from us.  I can’t control what they hear at school, but I can provide our own truth as to what happened.  Also, Emilia and Lucas has their own experiences with the death of their sister Abby, so death is not shied away from around our home.

The teachers.  The heroes that they are.  I was in the shower this morning and I closed my eyes and images of the teacher came to vision, holding her students, protecting them from harm.  These weren’t her children….yet they so were.  And she did the most selfless thing a human being could do, protect another human being from harms way.  To go there in that devastating space in my mind.   Horrifying yet so moving.  I can’t stop my tears.  God Bless her and the five other adults/teachers who sacrificed their lives.  And thank you to all of the teachers in Newtown, CT and each of our own teachers who care and nourish our children on our behalf.  You all amaze me. 

Monday morning, the TV came on after the kids went to school.  I found myself glued to CNN.  And I bawled and cried and felt a spread of emotions.  Anger for the murderer, he who shall not be named; anger for his mother, what was she thinking?  Sadness and despair, disbelief, heaviness in my mind and heart for the parents of those little angels.  When Abby died, the thought that weighed on me was “I don’t get it, I just don’t get it”, and here I am finding myself with this same tune in my mind, “I don’t get it, I just don’t get it”. 

I grieve for my own child and now I find myself multiplying that grief 27 times.  It is a heaviness I cannot describe.  Probably because it is all so fresh for myself.  Waking up this morning, I found myself coaching myself again.  “I can do this, I can do this”.  I have to get up to tend to the kids, to get the day going.  Trust me, I didn’t want to.  But I do my best to choose life.  “Life is for the living” they say. 

As I fold Emilia's laundry between the writing of my thoughts, I think of the families having to do the same for their child who will never come home.  I think of them, wondering what to do with their belongings, their toys, car seats, favorite movies, hats, mittens, coats, boots.  When Abby died, we had to return her car infant carrier to the store.  We had to fold her laundry, her little things.  But Abby was a baby and we didn't have much prepared for her since we weren't sure of her journey.  I don't know why I think this way.  It just puts me back to those first days of Abby's passing.  I feel their sorrow.....

I am so very relieved to see that the families are being loved, cared for and caressed as they have to endure such dark pain and sorrow, especially considering this time of year.  I feel helpless.  I soooo want to help them to ease their pain, since I resonate with them in their grief.  Each of those victims are someone’s child.  And that just breaks my heart.

I pray that our loving, caring and caressing for these families will continue beyond just the initial stages of this.  This is a lifetime of sorrow, of pain, of grief.  To those who are close to each of them, please, wrap your loving arms around them, and please, never ever let them go…..

In honor of the victims, I added them to my nightly prayers in my Remembering with Prayer post.  I know in my heart that each of these victims were greeted by Jesus at the Gates of Heaven.  I believe that with all my heart, I have to.  The victims are now Saints, perfect in Jesus’ arms.  It is us who bear the burden of their absence.  I pray that Jesus continues to carry all of us through this time of despair.  God Bless.