Yesterday I read something that I can’t get out of my mind. Someone said, and I paraphrase, “Once you become a parent, your own death is no longer the most frightening thing you can imagine.”
I have very little words to describe the pain in my heart.
What I do know is every time I see a picture of little Emilie Parker, I see my Madison in her striking eyes and long blonde hair. And every time I read something about Daniel Barden’s precocious spirit, I’m reminded of my own little firecracker, Hannah.
And I read about all of the children and wipe the tears off my keyboard because I need to see these children. I feel like the world needs to know their names and their stories. Because I would want people to know my babies.
I see glimpses of my children in the eyes of these children and I just can’t process in my head a world where you could kiss your child goodbye and send them off to school only to be burying them four days later.
And I’m thankful that I get to come home to the constant banter of sisters and I’m even more thankful that they are far too young to have any inclination that the world changed on Friday.
They probably notice my temper is a little more in check.
And they probably wonder why I squeeze them a little tighter and make them kiss me every time they walk past me.
But I know, and I am changed.
And I am determined to stay changed for the better, because it is the only way I can make the tiniest fraction of sense that there are so many people who have lost the light of their lives.
I know eventually we’ll be overcome with the minutiae of everyday life and my fuse will once again burn a little too quickly with the girls and I won’t hold my breath when they are fighting. But I will strive to be a better person everyday and fight for change and live my life as best as I can.
I know it doesn’t change a thing but I will do it in the honor of the 27 people that died on Friday because I don’t know how else to cope.
And someday when my children learn about this in a history book, I’ll explain to them that the world’s heart broke on December 14, 2012 but so many people did so much good and continue to do so for:
I see you and I’ll never forget you.
When you walk through a storm
Hold your head up high
And don’t be afraid of the dark
At the end of the storm
Is a golden sky
And the sweet silver song of the lark
Walk on through the wind
Walk on through the rain
Though your dreams be tossed and blown
Walk on walk on with hope in your heart
And you’ll never walk alone
You’ll never walk alone
–You’ll Never Walk Alone, R. Rogers/O. Hammerstein II