My plan, at first, for today was to talk about the early Christmas that I did last week with my family. I'd talk about how I'm still figuring out how to handle daily interaction with dad, much less the enormous stress of the holidays. I'd tell you the tape loop of his mind seems virtually nonexistent, and if I'm really being honest with myself, I don't know how much of me (the person) he knows, or where we go from here...(down, J. We go down until it's over.)
But then the shooting in Connecticut happened and my problems needed to step aside for a while. Today, I think people are a different kind of heartbroken - the kind where it didn't happen to you, but your heart hurts terribly anyway. And hurts is an understatement. Devastated. Confused, scared and angry. And we're just bystanders.
Although the death of a loved one is a nightmare, I always thought it would be particularly terrible to lose someone you love around Christmas time. I suppose that is my rather childish way of thinking. I cannot even begin to fathom the depth of those parents despair....to lose their beloved children right around the time that brings a family so much joy. Presents, bought but perhaps not yet wrapped, stand as towering reminders of what you have lost. God. I can't.
I'm sure more will come to light about the shooter, and we'll try to understand. I hope that we'll talk about gun control, and warning signs, and leave religion out of it. It is time to have the tough conversations. It was time a long while ago. But for today, we will simply be one broken heart, together.
