This post is nothing like I intended.
Anger and politics were pushed aside and I deleted my original post.
This is what came out instead.
I have had a couple days to think about the tragedy that occurred in Sandy Hook.
The above sentence is the only one left from the original post.
All I could picture was gift wrapped presents under the Christmas tree for those children.
All those gifts hidden under beds, under stairs, some
tucked high up in closets.
Waiting for Santa to deliver them under the tree
Those gifts were purchased out of love or at the insistent begging of
a loved child.
I imagine the parent envisioning Christmas morning as
the gift was being wrapped.
Of young shining faces, smiles to reach the heavens.
Eager grasping hands, and eyes to light the world.
As a parent of one of those children, how do you ever touch those hidden presents again?
How many years of dust will rest on those gifts?
How do you ever find joy for Christmas ever again?
How do you drag yourself from your bed day after day?
How do you breathe your next breath?
How do you?
I want to offer strength, peace and comfort to all.
But I can't. I am not there.
I can only hope that they have others to lean on.
People with the strength not to bow under the enormous weight of this loss.
People that don't offer empty platitudes.
People that help.
Bring them food and help them to eat.
Clean their homes.
Take out their garbage.
Write out their bills.
Shovel their driveway.
I don't pretend to know what that parent needs or feels.
I all I could truly offer would be a warm embrace and
a mingling of our tears.
But I am not there.