Sunday, December 16, 2012
For the better part of the day yesterday I avoided the media, tv, internet and twitter even. The pain of everything was just to much to take. Instead I focused on my son. We had planned to spend the Saturday doing festive holiday stuff anyway and I was not going to change my plans, perhaps if nothing more the shooting at Sandy Hook taught me how fleeting life truly can be. How to cherish the time, and each moment taking nothing for granted. And so we went out, we had lunch at our favorite hole in the wall. As we entered Logan saw a man crying on the front page. He asked why he was sad. And while I know I could have tried to explain, I didn't want to. There are some things that I shouldn't have to explain to a three year old. Its not that I want to keep him in the dark, but I wanted him to enjoy the day. As we passed by, he said well if he is crying, he must be sad. And this makes me sad mommy. Maybe I could give him a hug. He then asked if I thought that would make him less sad.
I told him I didn't know.
We went and made a Rudolph at Build a Bear workshop. He has yet to let go of it. We went and saw Santa, this is his first year he actually wanted to see him. We made gingerbread cookies and had a blast laughing at the silliness of everything. I tried not to think about the shooting, at least for a moment anyhow. None of which worked as I sat there in the back of my mind thinking twenty families aren't doing this. Twenty families didn't wake up to having their son/daughter come running in the room and snuggle in the morning. I didn't even care that it was bright and early.
And I felt guilty.
For having a little bit of happiness when families up north couldn't. For enjoying a Saturday before the holidays, when they couldn't. The holidays, how different they will be now for many this year. And for years to come. I felt guilty that I stood staring at presents when for some, there are presents hidden that will never be opened. Clothes that will never be worn again. Siblings that will be left to cope with the loss of one of their own for the rest of their lives.
I felt guilty that for me, tomorrow is another day. Its the same old same old.
And yet for them.
Nothing is the same.
Nothing will ever be.