The most sickening moment yesterday, for me, hit as I was walking toward my car. I was trying to think about something else, anything, and I thought about Christmas with our families. But then, unbidden, the realization crept in that there are parents who have to go home and do something with the presents they hid for little kids who will never come home.
I'm still at a loss over how to process what happened in Connecticut. I can't imagine the grief that the parents of the children and the families of the other victims are feeling. Sometimes pure evil rips into the delicate fabric of our world, and yesterday it left an ugly, gaping hole.
It's up to all of us to do something about this culture of violence. The problem is big and complex and there isn't a simple answer, but that is no excuse for doing nothing. Three mass shootings in three weeks is a disgrace, to say the least. We as a society and as a country are better than this. We owe our babies a better future.
I firmly feel, too, that these children and teachers are not truly gone. Whatever your religious persuasion, I hope you believe in souls -- that each of us is more than just a sum of our parts, our blood and bodies and brains. There really is something else within us, and it doesn't decay in the ground. It lives on, whether in heaven or nature or our love and memories. Those little souls can live on in this world through change.
Do not stand at my grave and weep; I am not there, I do not sleep. I am a thousand winds that blow; I am a diamond's glint on snow. I am the sunlight on ripened grain; I am the gentle autumn's rain. When you awaken in the morning's hush, I am the swift uplifting rush Of quiet birds circled in flight. I am the soft star that shines at night. Do not stand at my grave and cry. I am not there. I did not die. [Mary Elizabeth Frye]