Tuesday, May 23, 2017
Today I am grateful for necessary distractions. We have been babysitting for our youngest granddaughter for the last two days. Looking into her innocent face and watching her wheels click as she learns new things with warp speed has given me the luxury of postponing my feelings about what happened Manchester, UK.
She is now gone and I am experiencing a tsunami of emotions. I said to Himself, “It’s no longer a case of IF it affects someone you know and love, it’s a case of WHEN.”
After 9/11 everybody I talked to would ask, “Did you know someone in the towers, at the pentagon, in Shanksville?” No, not really. I knew people who knew people who worked there but no one personally. It didn’t matter to me. I mourned them all anyway and still do.
How do you, as a mom, hold up a picture of your beautiful daughter and beg for someone to tell you they have her, that she’s alive and well and just got lost in the crowd, or was injured with a concussion and couldn’t remember how to call you? How?
When you are in your early teens or younger, how do you recover from running past destroyed bodies and slipping on the blood of the wounded. I’m not trying to be crude, but this is the reality we are all living with. And I want to know. How?
For Christmas last year our (then) 13 year old granddaughter wanted to see a concert with her friends. Her parents said if she raised the money herself she could go. So we who hate giving cash gifts, got creative and attached the money to stick on letters and wrapped them all separate. She had to put the letters together and spell out the name after they were all opened. Ariana Grande. This could have happened anywhere.
How would we, her parents, brother, aunts and uncles, me and Himself, her other grandma ever have survived if something like what happened in Manchester had happened at the Philadelphia concert our granddaughter attended? How?
My soul is shattered in a million pieces for those affected by heinous acts of senseless violence. And it’s everywhere, so that means I’m broken for every one of us. How will we ever heal? How? Are there enough necessary distractions in the world?