Today innocent children were shot at school. Tonight I weep for their parents. Tonight I hold my daughters close, a little longer snuggle time before bed. I’m uneasy. I can’t make sense of it. Selfishly I think, What if it happens to me?
I feel others’ pain more keenly than before. This takes me back to a place I don’t want to go.
I wish I could describe the pain. It is dark like the sky deep, deep in the woods. It is vast like a canyon. It’s a free fall with absolutely no safety net and no sense of when it might end. It is alone.
It is the same questions endlessly consuming the mind, all centered around ‘why’ or ‘what if.’
It’s a fear of having to go back there with another loss.
I used to think nothing worse could happen than to lose your wife so young. Today has proven that wrong. This is worse.
This is not about me. This is about them, their loss – their sadness – their unanswered questions.
And yet, to some extent, I guess it is about us all.