I’m sitting by the fire tonight in my house that’s not too far away from Newtown, CT. All day today I was aware of what tomorrow is. I felt it driving up here from the city, a sense of unease as it got colder and snowier while we headed north. I can’t stop thinking of the survivors. I can’t stop thinking of the parents, friends, siblings, spouses. I can’t stop thinking of the victims and the first responders. I can’t stop thinking about guns and mental instability.
I just tucked my boys into bed after watching a movie and eating too much popcorn. We were all laying on the couch in the family room, legs entwined, hands reaching into the popcorn bowl at the same time…they’re getting big, my boys. The little one would occasionally jump off the couch to do a little dance while we all yelled at him to sit down. Of course he wouldn’t because he’s the performer and he loves a reaction, and who can get mad at that face really, so we let him continue. I wonder how much longer I’ll have nights like this, full of innocent laughter and questions and impromptu performances. I hope it lasts forever and yet I know it will only continue for a short while. They’re getting big, my boys…growing and playing, learning and fighting; but they’re here, they are present on this earth to put a smile on our faces, torture and challenge us, make us cry and laugh, to hug and kiss us, to rub noses together, to be tucked in and to love. My heart aches for the ones who are no longer here, for no reason at all, gone too soon. I shake my head at how life threatening, horrible, senseless things happen every day. I hope we can find a way to put an end to it. I can’t stop feeling grateful for the moments I get to have because I’m also very aware that it can be gone in an instant.
Tomorrow I will hug a little tighter, try to have my patience go a little further and I will keep Sandy Hook in my thoughts and prayers. Peace be with you Newtown, you will always be in our hearts.