Monday, 17 December 2012

Crying For Newtown

I've been crying a lot these past few days.

Crying for those innocent children who lost their lives and for the devastated families they leave behind.

Crying because all they did was go to school that day. Something they should have been able to do without being put in danger.

Crying because I cannot fathom the kind of person who wakes up and decides to enter a school and open fire on innocent children.

Crying because unlike many who will say, "I can't even imagine what their parents are going through," I do know what it feels like to lose a child.

Crying because I feel like my wound has been ripped back open. That pain, the kind of pain that paralyzes you, is back again. Not that the wound was fully healed, but it had a pretty good scab over it. But not anymore.

I feel raw and vulnerable in a way I haven't felt for quite some time. I have spent the weekend hugging my baby girl and crying. Reminding myself just how lucky I am to have her.

Knowing just how lucky I am to have her.
Knowing just how empty it feels when a child is there and then is not.
Knowing just how much it hurts to long for a child, to miss a child, to mourn a child.

My heart breaks for the families in Newtown, CT. A place I've never been filled with people I've never met. And yet I cry for them.

Real tears, real emotions, real sorrow. Their story has moved me in a way that no other news story ever has. Maybe because it hits closer to home than I would like it to.

Or maybe because it's just that terrible.


  1. It is just that horrible. Crying right along with you.

  2. It is just terrible. My grief has been heightened greatly as well. I have now turned off all the news and am now hiding out from it all for a while. It is too much to process with grief, Christmas and being 2 months post pardum. Just too horrible.

  3. You are not alone in having this reaction. It is a huge trigger for me as well.

  4. I keep thinking that in the rush to get the kids to school, the parents were probably short and snappy and saying "come ON, hurry up, get in the CAR...." and then that was it. They'll never see their babies again.
    I have to limit my exposure to it because it's just so painful to see and hear.

  5. It is without a doubt, that horrible, that horrific.

    I find myself continually praying for the families, hugging my own little ones, scared that mine will start school next year and be out of my grasp.

  6. I find myself crying at the most random of moments, like making my girls' lunches for school. It is one of the least favorite parts of my day and now I cherish it. I am fortunate enough to be able to have them here with me to pack a lunch for them.

  7. It is horrific especially when it hits so close to home. I learned of it late in the day and except for Friday evening when i was reading things online I have mostly stayed away for the details...too heartbreaking.

  8. It was just terrible. No other words for it. I've cried a lot too.