How Will We Sleep Tonight?

Dismissal time neared, and I raced towards Big Sister’s school, as fast as I could lawfully drive, without exceeding the speed limit.  Baby Boy slept late this afternoon, and who could blame him?  On a day like today, I’d give anything to crawl under the covers and never come out.
I’d gently awakened him from his dreams of Elmo and Cookie Monster and carried him to the car with the promise of apple juice and graham crackers.  I breathed in his sleepy scent and felt his feather-light curls brush my cheek as I held him tighter than usual.
As we made our way through the carpool line, I noticed the grim looks on the faces of other drivers and the teachers helping the children to their cars.  The same thing is on everyone’s minds…how could the tragedy in Connecticut have happened?  How are those parents even breathing right now?
My daughter emerged from the school and approached our car, and I began to tear up.  How lucky I am to lay eyes on her today.  To have her with me again.  I reached for my sunglasses to shield her innocence from my telling red-rimmed eyes.
Although there have been numerous national tragedies I’ve witnessed over the past forty years, this one has rocked me to the core of my very being. 
This is the day that I just can’t take anymore.
I want to grab my family and move to a deserted island where no one can find us.  I want to shake my fists at the sky and scream at the heavens.  I want to wake up in a world where this doesn’t happen.
I’ve commiserated with others today about feeling paralyzed, afraid and hopeless.  And now that I’ve medicated myself with wine and chocolate, these feelings are slightly dulled.  But not enough to close my eyes and rest.
When I try to sleep, all I can think about is how someone looked into the eyes of frightened Kindergarteners and ended their lives.  All I see are the anguished faces of the parents waiting to hear if their children were among the lucky ones. 
I know nothing of the hell that the parents of the victims have entered and from which they may never escape. 
I am on my knees for them.
Tonight, my only chance of getting some rest is by checking on my sleeping babies one more time and saying one more desperate prayer for the victims, their families and our country.
Prayers for peace and comfort for all who are hurting.
I am not feeling very Mamarific today.  And I know you’re right there with me.


  1. I too feel exactly as you do. I'm crushed...doing what I can to help.

  2. You said it beautifully and poignantly. It's been days and it's still haunting me.


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