Speechless

The events of last Friday have left me speechless.  Horrified.  Deeply saddened.  Shaken to the core.  I can't really put into words the intensity with which these feelings have overwhelmed me during the last few days, and so many others can do it much better than I can.  Suffice it to say, this struck close to home.  Irrational as it might be, I had a hard time putting Ethan on that school bus yesterday morning.  I thought for a moment that several inches of snow would save me from having to do it, would allow us to hunker down in the safety of our home for one more day before having to face the reality of the world out there.  But alas, school was on and off he went and I counted the minutes until 11:15, when I was due to volunteer in his room and could witness his happy, innocent, totally unaware face and know that he was safe.  Being in a classroom yesterday was surreal.  On the one hand, being around those carefree kindergartners was reassuring and uplifting.  But mercifully unbeknownst to these small children were the unspoken words among the adults, the heavy shoulders, the hushed hall conversations, the heightened vulnerability.  I don't know how long we'll all feel like this.  I don't know how long this dark gloom will overshadow our daily life.  I don't know how long we'll feel helpless and scared and sad.  But I do know that in the wake of this event, I re-resolve to try my hardest, every day, to be present.  I resolve to practice compassion, to hug my family tight, to let no words of love and honor be unspoken, and to look for the light in our world.  Because there is light, even in these darkest of days.