I wonder if I had children when 9-11 happened if I'd feel like I do today. When those planes hit, I felt scared for myself, and for the world, and about what might happen to the world. But I didn't know anyone who died, and it was easy at the end of the several days to think, wow, thousands of people died, what a shame. And eventually move on. Even after the Columbine shootings so many years ago when I was still in school myself, I shook my head, was sad, and moved on.
Many less people died last Friday at that school in Connecticut than in the attacks on 9-11. And it has shaken me in ways I couldn't imagine, ways I don't remember being shaken that September. Maybe it's because I didn't have kids of my own back then. Maybe it's because I'm almost 35 and so much wiser. Or maybe it's because I could finally put myself into those families' shoes and feel the terror and pain they must feel. I can't look at those kids faces on TV. I can't look at the pictures of kids who made it out alive walking single file to safety. I can't even think about it without feeling that punch to the gut.
This past weekend I purposely didn't watch TV. I didn't do my daily check in on NBCNews.com. I just couldn't. What I still did was check my Facebook account, and after a few minutes shut it down. People are just nuts and I couldn't take the arguing, the blaming, and worst of all, the pictures of those sweet kids who have died.
I did, however, come across two articles that made sense to me and spoke to me in ways that I feel are reasonable. If you are like me, these might be good reads for you too.
'I Am Adam Lanza's Mother': A Mom's Perspective On The Mental Illness Conversation In America
I Won’t Yell About What You Want Me To
Now, I'm off to hug my kids, tell them I love them, and pray for other mothers not as lucky as me.
