I look at her face. So sweet. Big eyes, round cheeks, ready smile. I feel her heart beat as I hold her. I smell her sweet head, rub her small back. I brush her hair and I help her dress.
And I am so so sad. I am mournful. I am picturing her, and her friends. I am picturing the terror and the fear and the crying.
I am picturing the empty room. And the empty arms. And the empty heart.
Some say after a tragedy like this- dont put yourself in that place. Don't think about it as it relates to your child.
I don't have that skill. I can't not feel it or think it. I can't not grieve with those mothers. I can't.
I can't not look at the pictures of those slain little babies and NOT memorize their faces and their names. Because I am a mother. And I have a child that age. And because I am human.
I will not turn away. I will not pretend it didn't happen. Because I am in this world to learn and be taught. And things like this- horrific, horrible things- these things teach. And they move us to change ourselves. The lessons are hard and terrible. And the change can be very very difficult. But it is important to witness it and let it move you in the way God wants it to.
I am afraid. I am prayerful, but I am afraid. I don't want to send Lily to school tomorrow. I don't want to let go of her hand and let her run into a place that is beyond my control. But if I don't- if I don't do it- does evil win?
This is so so hard.
Hardest of all is what I am sure many of us parents feel- God, where were you? How could You let this happen? For that question, I have no answers. I am angry. I am angry that He did not intervene. I am angry that He didn't stop the bullets, stop the killing, and keep those percious babies with their parents.
But I also know that it is not up to me to know why. Evil exists. Evil does what evil does- it crushes. It kills. And it causes pain. Why this happens, I am not given to know.
The worst thought, the most painful thought-if it could happen there...it could happen here. It could be my child's school. Her class...it could be her.
Tomorrow will come. With it's uncertainty. With it's fear. I will drive her to school. I will walk her to the crosswalk. I will kiss her. I will let go of her hand.
And like all mothers, I will not breathe until I hold her again.
God help us.
