I don't really have anything enlightening to say about the shootings that happened in Newton, Conn. today. I just feel like I should recognize it briefly on this blog. Ignoring something this tragic and continuing with my usual posts didn't really seem right.
In light of these tragedies, you can't help but think about your loved ones and what tiny degree of randomness has spared you and hurt another. There is just no sense behind it. That in itself is terrifying.
My heart, thoughts, prayers, hopes and wishes go out to the children of Newton, their parents, family and friends. It doesn't just stop there. We are all effected. It reminds us how fragile we really are.
I have an 11 year old niece. She is in middle school now. She loves One Direction and is learning how to wear make up. She has an Instagram account, which is almost a story for another post. I love her in ways I could never accurately express and think about her constantly.
As she's maneuvering her way from child to teen to woman, I want to be there to give her guidance. When a boy hurts her feelings, I want to let her know that more will come along. When she's worried about a test, I want to give her the confidence to approach it. If her friends are going through spurts of being mean, as most little girls do, I want to build her up...and I kinda want to go give the stink eye to some little girls.
When it comes down to it, I really can't protect her from any of those things. I can give her all the tools, but I can't physically block the wrongs that might fall her way. It's even harder from several states away. No matter what, there's some feeling of helplessness.
She is just a kid. They are just children. And my heart is breaking.
The best any of us can do is make it a point to share love every day. Nothing in life is a guarantee, but what we put out into the world is our decision. Make it something positive.
I saw a quote on Facebook today and it seems like a good way to end this post:
It often happens that the real tragedies of life occur in such an inartistic manner that they hurt us by their crude violence, their absolute incoherence, their absurd want of meaning, their entire lack of style. They affect us just as vulgarity affects us. They give us an impression of sheer brute force, and we revolt against that. - Oscar Wilde, The Portrait of Dorian Gray