The tragedy in Newtown, CT happened last Friday. On that afternoon, I watched the coverage non-stop until Ian's bus got here at around 2:45. I hugged him all the way from the steps of the bus to the front door. I did not want to let go.
I did not watch or read much of the wall-to-wall coverage on Saturday or Sunday. I just could not take it. I also did not find much refuge on Facebook, so I pretty much kept away from that. The news kept changing as to who did it, who the victims were, etc. By yesterday, when Ian went back to school, I thought I was ready to read more. It turned out I wasn't. And today, well today has been the hardest yet. It turns out one of the victims was a 6 year old boy with autism. He was in the arms of his one on one aide when they were both shot and killed. Just how am I supposed to deal with that? It is just way too close to home on several levels. And now I just read that another para was killed. She was about to complete her doctorate and her boyfriend was set to propose on Christmas Eve.
Yesterday I watched the movie "Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close." I had requested it from the library before any of this happened, and I was feeling a little rundown and wanted some down time. Although I had seen this in the theatre and had my Kleenex ready, I cried and cried. I kept thinking how, like September 11, this tragedy was going to reverberate through our country for years to come. In the movie, the little boy is trying desperately to hang on to the memory of his father. I keep thinking of the parents and siblings and children and friends and classmates who will be trying to do the same with the victims of this tragedy. While the rest of the nation will be arguing about gun control, mental illness, school safety and other issues, the families left behind will be going through a private hell that we all hope to avoid. They are the ones I will keep in my prayers.
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