I watched CNN yesterday in wide-eyed horror and disbelief.
I was listening to NPR in my car at first. They were speaking to local reporters on the scene in Newtown. The reporters were crying on the radio.
I turned on the TV when I got home.
I didn't start crying until President Obama started crying.
I held Zuzu while she napped instead of putting her in her crib. I just didn't want her out of my sight. And we all know she's my comfort.
I called David, who was at work. In an elementary school. Full of beautiful little kids.
I asked him if he'd heard about the shooting.
He said yes, it was terrible.
And then I started crying and saying, "Just don't be a hero, okay?"
As though his school was next in line. Because it kind of felt that way. Such a precarious place to work--a building full of innocent children and the people devoted to teaching them.
How does someone walk into a room full of little kids with those kid-sized chairs and little bitty desks and artwork on the walls and spelling words on the board and the American flag hanging in the corner and start shooting?
I am so incredibly sorry for the families whose hearts were broken and whose lives were shattered by a madman with guns. I think of their homes decorated for the holidays with stockings waiting to be filled and gifts that will never be unwrapped. I think of how noisy kids are and how silent their homes must be today. I think of the way nothing will ever be quite okay for those families again.
The police may uncover more details and psychologists may speculate about diagnoses, but there are no answers and no explanations that will make this right. It is incomprehensible, this kind of evil and this level of grief.
My thoughts and prayers and tears are with the families in Connecticut.