scribblechic

It is too simple to say that my heart aches as a mother, I grieve as a piece of a greater whole shattered into broken pieces by an act of violence. In the days since learning of the tragedy in Connecticut I welcomed moments of darkness, apologizing for my blessings. Quietly my mind began inviting What If and Could Have Been among countless memories of mornings shared in my children’s elementary school, the teachers and staff I consider friends, of my own children trapped in a nightmare from which they could not wake. Then I imagined the unimaginable, until the immediate sense of suffocation shut the door to fear and grief refusing to hold them in my heart, forbidding them from my mind.

This grief is at once not my own and all of ours. I can ache with all the imagined pain of my nightmares, but I have not walked in the shoes of those relearning to breathe as they move through days whose meaning is misplaced. I cannot assume another’s pain, rather I must move within my home and community creating threads of compassion and kindness connecting broken pieces into something beautiful.

Casting out the shadows of sorrow I am gathering light, carrying a consciousness of Friday’s tragedy, accepting the responsibility we share as a community to be present and stand as witnesses. Intentionally, I am practicing small acts of love to cheat grief of its paralyzing fear. Hoping to honor the lives lost too early with lives well lived.

Tagged: Grief, Musings