Sunday evening Monday morning, and I’m still having a hard time grasping what happened in Connecticut on Friday. I saw some headlines via Facebook on Friday morning shortly before we headed into our lunchtime holiday party, and remained fairly glued to my phone throughout, hoping that the initially reported numbers of dead children would be some kind of mathematical fuckup, a false accounting, anything that would make that final number go down, not up by one or two more in the end. I tried to not think about it and participate in the silly reindeer games during the party, but laughing and enjoying myself felt so horribly wrong. I desperately wanted to just get up, walk out to the parking lot, and drive to my mom’s house and hold Ike. When I got there a few hours later, she hadn’t even heard the news yet. I didn’t want to tell her.
I have tried to avoid the news, at least televised – I definitely do not want to see small children trying to explain what they had seen. I don’t have anything brilliantly insightful to say about it. It’s horrifying. No explanation could possibly be satisfying. I don’t know that there is anything we can do to truly prevent all recurrences, but I also don’t think that we should live in fear of something you can never see coming anyway. I am just trying to enjoy my child, every second that I have the opportunity. I don’t know what else I can do, other than hold on tight, and still know that I’ll have to let go at times as well. I am thankful that Ike is still way too young to need an explanation from us. How can you explain the incomprehensible?
I have seen references a hundred times this weekend – look for the helpers. There are bad people that do bad things, but most people are helpers. Thanks, Mister Rogers, for helping us remember that.