I can’t imagine anyone that hasn’t been affected by the elementary school shooting on 12/14/12. To be honest, all I can keep imagining are Christmas trees standing over piles of presents that will never be opened. Perhaps this is too simple or frivolous a picture to paint, but it has continued to bring tears to my eyes over the last few days.
We want to blame someone. We all want there to be an answer, a truth, a way to make it “understandable.” It never will be though. As we all start to go back to our own lives, go back to our own holidays, or own troubles, we will continue to hear about who’s to blame. And have you picked a side?
Are you on the side of those that believe it is all about gun control? It’s violence in the media or entertainment world? It’s bullies? It’s mental health? It’s God? It’s the devil? At the end of the day does it matter? Will it bring any of them back? No. Nothing we do or say will change what has been broken.
So where do we go from here?
I’ll tell you, the minute I heard about it I have to admit I wished that heartless piece of crap hadn’t shot himself so that he could be pushed through the justice system. No matter what I read, I can’t have sympathy for him. I refuse to use his name, I refuse to ever acknowledge his name. I will not give him infamy for something so offensive.
I read this article and I stopped and really thought about the whole thing…
I will ask, that we all show a little respect and compassion for those that have lost their lives, those that gave their lives, those that were left to clean up, and those that may never heal.
In life we all need to show a bit more compassion, and much more tolerance. More important, we just need to pay better attention and to look for ways to help those that cannot help themselves.
Was he and so many other murders victims to mental illness? Maybe. Does it matter now? Not for them, but perhaps for someone else.
I am a child of divorce. I am a child of drug abusive and alcohol abusive family members. There have been times in my life that I simply no longer wanted to exist, much younger than you may even imagine. There have been times that I have wanted to hurt other people both verbally and physically. There have been times that I have hurt other people both verbally and physically. So what makes me different? Why haven’t I shot up a school, a movie theater, a mall? Why haven’t I downed a bottle of pills or slit my wrist? I wish I could tell you. I wish there was something I could say that would be this magical light switch and we could solve all the worlds problems. I don’t have an answer.
Some say it could be my family. Even in the worst of times, I have always had family to support me in some way. Some might say my faith. Were those others just not give a moral compass on their way into this world?
I am learning to see myself in my daughter, perhaps that is where I will start. At two-and-a-half she’s got my temper, my need to be right, my need to be heard. I see an uncontrollable girl, wild in some ways. Do I think she’s capable of hurting others? Yes, I do. Do I think I can teach her how not to hurt others? Yes, I do. I think she is at a time in her life that she is trying to be heard and learning how to communicate. I don’t think she is a heartless creature, I think she understands the concept of love. So I will continue to teach her. I will teach her that she will not always get her way, that in love we will always get hurt and that strength comes from waking up each morning, looking in the mirror and saying “I’m going to be the best me I can be today.” I will teach her that we don’t hurt others to make ourselves feel better because it really doesn’t work. I will teach her to look for the wonder and magic in every little thing in life, and as I also teach her sister, I will ask for both of their help, that they continue to teach each other throughout their lives.
It is not just about being a good or bad parent. I will admit, if my kids grow up to be “bad” people, I will take full responsibility. I understand there are true mental disabilities out there, ones that may not even be diagnosed, ones that maybe there is no help for yet, but that will never make me feel less responsible for the actions of the people I have created.
For those parents that have children with these uncontrollable, un-diagnosed, no-treatment-available conditions, I will continue to hope and pray that someday help will be available, that those children will grow up and be able to be functional, even happy, adults. Until that time, be conscious of your neighbors, of strangers, of whatever.
And hug your loved ones just a little bit closer.
Kneading, Reading, Streaming