December 15, 2012
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A Night With My Daughter
I wasn’t supposed to see her again til January.
I had the surgery…she had finals…so much to do…so little time.
Then…Sandy Hook.
Sorry world…I am a mom.
Yes, my child is 21…legally an adult.
Yes, she can take care of herself.
But as the news rolled in, and death toll went up, there was a crazy anguish building in my heart, that only actually seeing her would stop.
So I called…no answer.
No surprise…she has a student observation to do—the last of the semester. But I know my daughter…and I know how her heart works. When she came back to her room after spending the day in a school, and caught this news…well…lets just say I had a feeling it would get to her.
In less than five minutes, she called.
“You heard?” she said.
“Yes.”
We talked for a few minutes…and then we both came to the same conclusion. We needed to see each other. In a world gone mad, where someone could actually murder children like that…we needed a few hours of calm and quiet with someone we loved. I went to get her.
She was waiting for me in the parking lot…tears in her eyes.
“MOM…I was working with kids…the SAME AGE…”
Hugs…tears for both of us. The ride was catharsis. We spoke about what we had heard…and my oh-so-perceptive daughter voiced something I had thought—but not yet said aloud.
“The parents…their houses have trees up already. They probably already wrapped the presents—for kids that they will never hold again.”
Yes.
I glanced at her half a dozen times…and tried to find some wisdom to offer…tried to give her hope. My daughter wants to teach, you see. This wasn’t about her being afraid for herself…Desiree is a lioness. But her heart was breaking about those kids…those teachers…and how many lives were destroyed by what happened in minutes. I wish I could say I came up with something brilliant, and stirring. I wish I could say I gave my sweet, loving daughter something to hold to her aching heart…but all I could do was BE THERE. All I could do was hold her…share a meal with her…spend time with her in a safe place.
We did normal stuff this morning. Ran to the grocer, so she would not be eating Lo Mein for the next six days of finals. We talked about everything, and nothing. And I took her back to Salem (Shut up…it needed done.) and on the way back to my place, thanked the universe that she was well and whole. I am grateful that my daughter has so large a heart. I am thrilled that someday, she will teach. I am not in the mood for politics, or bumper sticker logic. I am not feeling able to stomach platitudes. Those kids should be HOME with their parents. Their parents should be telling them that Santa will know if they are naughty. And I should not have had to hold my daughter, as if somehow I could actually protect her from the aforementioned world gone mad.
God Bless us…everyone.
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Comments (5)
a big hug to you <3
what a touching story. i also kept thinking that the night before the families did what they normally did. laughed, had dinner, played, read stories, said i love you. and little did they know…
all day i felt as though i had been bruised all over. it hurt. my daughter and i and the mister talked. we had to. i had to
@bonmots - thank you, sweetie.
You know…I had an awful thought. What if the last thing WASN’T that nice. What if they were just parents—stressed by work, rushed by the holidays…and the last moments weren’t “I love you.”, but GET YOUR ASS IN GEAR! You’re going to be late!
I lost my dad when I was just 17…and ever since, I have tried to make sure the people I love know I care..just in case.
It’s great you and your daughter were able to get together after this horror and talk about it. The shooting hit me on several levels. The sheer horror of these kids being killed. The nightmare the parents and loved ones of the adults killed are living. Eventually you go to sleep. You wake up and for a few moments or maybe only a split second the world seems right as rain. Then the memory floods in and you remember….this actually happened. She’s gone. He’s gone. We’re used to waking up from nightmares, not into nightmares. The world quickly becomes dark and there’s no escaping. I’ve lost loved ones but never a child. I cannot imagine. Then there are the people who immediately jump on the “Don’t take my assault weapons and high capacity clips away” bandwagon as if these twenty 6 and 7 year olds and six teachers are merely collateral damage for their right to own these kinds of weapons. That angers me. It angers me yet again that people say this is not the time to discuss assault weapons and more that people accuse those who want to better our world of exploiting the deaths of 20 elementary school kids. They’d rather the discussion gets pushed back once again in the hope people forget. The NRA said it would have no comment until all the facts come out. How many more facts do you need after once again children, adults are killed by an assault weapon? Sorry for the rant but yeah.
My step mom lives in Newtown. I’ve been there many times. It is a nice community.
You did what you could do, something 28 or so families will not get to do again. Blessings accounted for.