Christmas Shopping. That is what I was doing Friday morning when I learned the news about the tragedy at Newtown Elementary School via a text message from my husband.
“Did you hear about the horrible school shooting in CT?? A kindergarten class- 18 kids died.”
Completely disconnected from media, and unsure how to process the news he passed on to me, I got in my car and drove to pick up our daughter from pre-school.
I remembered how that morning when I dropped her off, we had been 5 minutes late and the doors were already locked. How we had to ring the bell to be let in and in retrospect I had never been so thankful. I thought about what I had been doing while this tragedy was unfolding just a few states away- Christmas Shopping- and how many other parents may have been doing the same when they got that frightening phone call. How those parents, those children- like mine- were probably excitedly celebrating or gearing up to celebrate the holidays with their friends and family- with wish lists, and cookie making… and my heart broke.
photo credit: newtoncountyschools.org
When we returned home, I immediately crawled the internet to find out what exactly happened. Searching for a WHY?
The details seemed to change by the minute, but the number of lives lost only grew. There were no answers. I had no words. I hugged my daughter. And while my sons pick-up time usually seems to come so quickly- Friday, time seemed to have stood still.
Finally, the bus arrived and I thought of the parents that did not have the privilege I did that day of picking up their child. He got home and the phone rang, it was a classmate of his inviting him over. The boys were over the moon excited to be getting together. I took a moment to really soak in that joy, and was thankful for it. Thankful that none of the kids had any idea about what had happened. Thankful for their innocence.
This weekend, we kept the news off. We went to birthday parties, we watched movies, baked cookies and spent time just appreciating the kids- even amongst the sibling rivalry.
On our iPhones we kept up with the news here and there. Reading the birth years of the victims seemed like a knife in my heart, 2005, 2006, 2005, 2005, 2006. Our son, was born in 2005.
Talking About It
Sunday night, my husband and I struggled with how or IF we should tell our son (2nd grade) about the tragedy. This is certainly nothing we ever expected to have to talk about with our kids, nothing our parents ever had to talk to us about. What is the right thing to do?
While we had hoped to have gotten some direction from the school to put all of us parents on the same page, we did not, so we had to go with our gut.
Shielding him from it is of course what we wanted to do, we just weren’t sure how realistic it was and wanted him to be prepared for what he might hear in school and know that he could ask us ANY questions he had.
But how do you bring up such a dark conversation with a child who has spent his entire afternoon dressed like a Prep and Landing elf?
2 weeks ago Ry had come home talking about a “lock down” drill he did in school, so we used that to open the conversation. We were careful not to say too much. We stressed the importance of his lock down drills, and how although everyone in our family has gone through school safely, there was recently a tragedy that happened where a bad man got into a school in CT . We told him that the man was no longer around and that police got him (white lie?). We asked him to be respectful and not talk to his classmates about it but let him know that if he heard anything and had any questions about it he could ask us.
At that moment, he did not have any questions. He didn’t seem scared, though with the little information we gave him, I am not sure he fully grasped it. Still, in our guts as parents- it was a conversation we felt we had to open up.
Last night, I went to bed with knots in my stomach. My heart asking my mind to come up with a reason not to send them to school tomorrow. My mind telling my heart that was crazy talk.
Today, both of the kids went to school- everything as it usually is- and never before had our daily routine seemed so terrifying. My already existing anxiety is higher than normal.
They’re not safe with trusted babysitters, in malls, in movies, or in schools.
I sit here counting the hours til they get home- wondering why anyone would need a military-style gun in their personal possession- EVER… wondering how we can get those who need mental help, the help that they need quickly.. and asking myself if this time our nation is REALLY going to make changes?
Because while living in fear is no way to live, parenting in fear is also no way to parent.
