Remembering Newtown

I really wasn’t sure what, if anything, I would write about it.  So much to feel, so much to think.  And if I did decide to write something, what would be the deciding factor?

It didn’t take long, one day.

I was just going through some news lines.  There was just a small quote, buried in some random article.  I don’t remember who it was, other than a citizen of Newton.  Nor do I remember the exact words, but I remember what she wanted to know – do the rest of you feel like us, or is this just another headline you’ll forget in a day?

We feel and will not forget.

Personally, I have not felt such sorrow, emptiness and longing since 9/11.

I feel the fear of the young victims and witnesses.  That hurts me the most.  So, so much taken away.  It’s a cliche to say their innocence was taken, but what better to say it?  Go watch a 6 year old for an hour.

I feel the fear, anger and despair of the parents who heard of the massacre and rushed over only to have to wait, wait, wait… I feel the utter sickness, torment and grief of a parent who to ID the child by a photograph, wanting so badly to see the child in person.  I feel the blunt force memory battering a mother or father’s mind… what did I last say to my child, when did I last touch my child, when did I last tell her that I loved her?  I feel the anger of knowing the killer is gone, and along with him quite possibly the true answer.  Why did you do this?  Why an innocent child?  Why twenty innocent children?  I feel the silence of a home where there was a single child.  I feel the fatigue of many sleepless nights, perhaps sleeping on the floor next to a child’s now empty bed.  I feel the stress begin to lead to anger and short tempers between a husband and wife… an argument… only for both to break down in tears again in each others arms.

To be  continued.

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