Dear Sandy Hook

Dear Sandy Hook,

There is a lot of anger going around. I know, because 24 hours later, I still am gnashing my teeth in aggravation and am on edge with anxiety concerning all my loved ones. Finally, with some lavender oil in an old fondue pot-turned-essential oil burner (I know, it's weird) I am somewhat less anxious.

Where does one find comfort when thrown so recklessly into a perilous storm? To elaborate on this metaphor, it can be trying to find a corner on the proverbial stone where the wind doesn't whip your face and the frigid rainwater doesn't strike you. It can be impossible to see the light when darkness engulfs you.

However, like with all things, storms pass and subside. Yes, the memory of such tempests will always be branded in memory, but that memory serves as a way to remind us of our strengths and our ability to survive.

Love and pain often eclipse each other. Fear of loving so greatly can translate into hubris. In the face of loss, hubris seems inevitable. We lost the ones we love, so why should we even bother loving the world at all?

To love and be loved is a necessity. It is the beauty wrought by all things that provides comfort and solace in even the most perilous tempest. "Home" is not a place, but a feeling--a byproduct of great love--and while some homes may be destroyed by storms, if we give ourselves the chance to love again, and if we meet that courage and desire to be loved, we can repair the home destroyed by hate and live forever with our loved ones there.

There is love everywhere. In the smallest of gestures between strangers, in an afternoon nap with your family, in the eyes of a loved one. I hope you remember that love can never be destroyed, even when it seems like hate and terror are triumphant, know that love is so much stronger than hate could ever be.

Love,

Abigail

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