Remember Them All
My spirit is dampened. My heart is sore. All of my children are home safe with me, and still my heart aches and my spirit dwindles. There are no words I can say that you haven’t already heard or read somewhere, most of which are more eloquent than mine.
First it was the sheer horror of the shooting–not that a massacre occurred as much as that it occurred in an elementary school and it was very young children. Then it was grief as I saw my own little boy, not even in kindergarten yet as he cowered in a corner, terrified (because it kills me when he’s at school during a thunderstorm knowing he’s afraid). I saw his face in every single picture and it still squeezes my heart.
Twenty arms are empty right now, have been empty since they put their hearts on a bus and waved goodbye Friday morning. They stayed empty through Friday night, left in the space between certainty and denial, and on through the morning hours as they waited for their fears to come true.
I see the faces of the heroes, read sweet stories of the fallen, but what continues to stick with me is the lone photo I saw of a group of officers hugging each other. Someone had to see those tiny bodies left where they fell. Someone had to sit with them all night as they went from one to the next seeking identification so the parents wouldn’t have to.
And my heart aches anew for these living victims that see what no one should ever have to see– the coroners, the police officers, the firefighters, emts, first responders…I have a gained a new understanding and respect for these people. It has been made clear to me in a way it never has before. We will all sleep tonight without those visions in our heads, while they will never forget them.
My prayers and love go out to all those impacted by the recent tragedy, both in Connecticut and here at home, but today I am saying a special prayer for all those who do their jobs and live with these nightmares so we don’t have to.
I will remember them all.