Yesterday, just after leaving the mall, I received a text from a friend telling me she was devastated about something that had happened in Connecticut. I had no idea what she meant until she shared the news that shook me to my core. How? Where? Why?
The last time I remember feeling this combination of sorrow, fear, and an overwhelming urge to never let my children out of my sight was on 9/11. Calling this unsettling and heartbreaking would be a huge understatement. I appreciated Beth’s post on Home Stories A to Z about how to talk to your kids; it helped me think about how to respond when children ask questions I don’t have answers for.
Unsure of what to say or do—for myself, my children, or in general—I found a quote from Mr. Rogers shared by Amy of Positively Splendid on Facebook. I reposted it to my own 30days feed and made a small image to share on Instagram, hoping some simple words might bring a little comfort.
My heart is broken for everyone affected by the events in Newtown. I am grateful for all of the helpers and found myself holding my children a little tighter today.
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Edited to add:
I hesitated to edit this post because I usually keep this blog light and upbeat—rainbows and puffy pink hearts are my usual. It has been my happy place, and I want it to remain that way. Still, I appreciated Amy’s post and others like it, and I know that staying silent won’t create change. I feel strongly that we need to take action.
As more details came out about what happened and who was involved, I felt even more helpless. I am absolutely heartbroken for every child we lost and for the adults who died protecting them—the helpers Mr. Rogers spoke of so eloquently. At the same time, I am deeply troubled for people who desperately need help and aren’t getting it. I know that feeling personally. I’ve written about being an autism mom and shared some of the loneliness and difficulty that can come with it.
I resonate with the perspective of a mother who wrote about mental illness in America. I agonize for her because I am like her: I love my child fiercely, and I am often scared, exhausted, and uncertain about what the future will bring.
I believe we need to start talking openly and loudly about mental illness. I don’t have all the answers about how to change things, but I know that change is necessary.
A practical place to begin is with less judgment and more compassion. I am not condoning violent behavior—never. I also recognize that some parents fall short, are absent, or are even harmful to their children, and those circumstances can lead to harmful behavior. But most parents I know are doing the best they can with the knowledge and resources they have.
I can’t count how many times I’ve been stared at because my son acted out in public or been hurt by rude comments from people who didn’t know our situation. Those moments sting because I am trying my hardest and my child is trying his very hardest too. There have also been moments of kindness: a smile or a quiet, “Don’t worry, I understand,” when days have been especially hard. If you ever witness someone struggling, please choose compassion over criticism.
I don’t want to diminish the memory of those who lost their lives. I have thought of them constantly. I cried when someone prayed for them in church, and I was moved while teaching a lesson about forgiveness that had been planned before these events. Tears came when the names of the victims were read aloud, and I was overwhelmed reading about a teacher who told each student she loved them so the last thing they heard would be love rather than fear.
I want to remember each life lost and to work toward meaningful change so tragedies like this are less likely to happen in the future.