I came home after being out for the late morning feeling good. I'd completed my new hire paperwork for the baking job I've been hired for at a large, upscale grocery store. I purchased a gift for my daughter to take to a birthday party tonight. I'd also gotten the final supplies I needed to complete the handicrafts I need to finish so I can get them off in the mail. Among my haul were also a copy of "Muppet Christmas Carol", probably my favorite holiday movie, and a roll of wrapping paper.
I was looking forward to working on the gifts I'm making and watching "It's a Wonderful Life." I was planning on making cocoa for my kids when they got home. It was really a very nice day I was having.
When I arrived I logged into Facebook, because that's what I do. I saw all kinds of posts about a school shooting. Oh no. Oh no no no. Not another one.
I got online to find out what happened. According to MSN.com, a 20 year old man went to the elementary school where his mother taught kindergarten. He shot her. He then shot over 20 children.
CHILDREN. Children who had done nothing to him. They hadn't caused his fucked up mental state. They weren't hurting him. All I can do is cry.
Cry about the senselessness of this. Cry about the torment and hurt and anger that the parents of these children are going to be feeling. I can't even begin to imagine what they are going through. What they must be enduring. The worst thing that can possibly happen to a parent, losing a child.
Losing your child, I can't even think about it without coming close to a panic attack. To send your child out into the big, wide world to a place they are supposed to be safe only to learn they have been killed by a crazy person who thought it would be a good idea to shoot children.
Then going home to look at the Christmas tree and see the ornaments they made, their stockings hanging on the mantle. Going into their rooms and looking at their beds that will not be slept in again. No more kissing them good night. No more nagging them to brush their teeth or pick up their towels. No more surprising them with a trip to McDonald's. No watching them rush to the fireplace on Christmas morning to see what Santa left them.
The silence has to be deafening.
How can you shoot children? What kind of monster walks into an elementary school with a gun?
Yes, I called him a monster because that's what he is. A monster.
We can debate gun control until we're all screaming so loud our faces turn red and it won't bring one of these children back to their parents. Coulda, shoulda, woulda, who expects someone to walk into a school with a big-ass gun and mow down little kids?
I tell my kids I love them every day. I've told then I will always love them no matter what they do. Even when they do something that makes me mad, I love them.
I'm not a perfect mom, but they know I love them and I will always love them no matter what.
I can only cry and hope that the parents will eventually be able to get out of bed and continue on with life. There is no statement of condolence that will make them feel better. Casseroles or baked goods can't possibly fix the wound that they've suffered.
I'm horrified and sad.