Hug them Tightly, Always

We will remember you.


"Hey, mommy?" My six-year-old poked his little head into the kitchen as I was making tonight's dinner. "I just want you to tell how much I love you." 

I smiled, and he smiled. He tells me that often. He left and went back to setting up his umpteenth concert stage in the living room that consists of ottomans and a catwalk of chairs. The minute he disappeared, I broke into tears - again. 

I've been crying on and off since the tragic news came out of Newtown, CT on Friday. Twenty-six people died at the hands of a gunman. Twenty were children around the same age as my baby boy. And every time I look at him, hear his voice, listen to him laugh, or watch him do silly things like dance to Justin Bieber on a stage of ottomans, I think of the families who will never again see their child do silly things, laugh, or say"I love you." 

When I'm not writing, I replace support staff at my sons' elementary school. I know how deeply I've come to care for the children there. I can't imagine an entire class gone, just like that. An entire class full of beautiful, bright little kids. I can't fathom the pain, the loss, the anguish. I feel this tragedy both as a mother and as a school employee. It's heartbreaking twice over.

It's not fair. It's not right. It's an incomprehensible wrong. This terrible event shook so many of us to the core and we're nowhere near pulling ourselves out again. Newtown's grief is being felt around the world. 

There's been a lot of discussion about gun control, mental illness awareness and access to treatment, and even whether or not keeping faith out of the public school system is somehow to blame.

I have views, of course. If you don't want to read them you can skip over the next three paragraphs. Our society has been full of opinions over the last few days, so I won't take it personally.

I think America needs to take a serious look at why semi-automatic weapons are available to the public. I know it's your constitutional right to bear arms. But it should be a child's right to go to school safely, and a parent's right to watch their child grow up without worrying that someone is going to spray a classroom with bullets. Maybe it's just me, but I think that trumps your right to own a deadly weapon a million times over.

I don't believe adding prayer and worship back into the school system will put an end to senseless violence. I know someone who attended an Ottawa Catholic school in 1973. An eighteen-year-old came in and shot 6 kids in a religion class. I am all for a person having their faith, but it’s not going to protect you from a man with a gun.

I believe the US - and Canada, for that matter - needs to take a proactive approach to treating mental illness; things have to escalate to a frightening level for any public help to be available. As a mother who has a child with mental illness, I know how expensive private treatment can be. This mother knows more than I do. Her son deals with issues that are far more serious than my son's. Why can't she get him the help he needs?

I've engaged in several head-on debates about all these things. There have been some very heated discussions with and around me as we all try to comprehend what happened; as we all try to gain some control of the situation any way we can. Maybe this will prevent another mass murder. Or maybe this. Or maybe both of those. Or neither. Post another meme. Another quote. Talk some more. Yell some more.

But really, underneath all that anger and judgment and fear is grief. We're hurting for you, Connecticut. No matter where we stand on these issues, we all stand united in our hope that you find peace and healing and comfort in the days and weeks to come. We are all connected, and we share your loss deeply.

I know that when I send my children off to school tomorrow, no matter how late they are getting out the door, I will tell them how much I love them. I will hug them tightly. I will remember what a gift it is to see them walk through the door at the end of the day. I will not take it for granted like I usually do. 

Rest in peace, little souls and those who fought to protect them. We will remember you.