The tragedy in a small, safe little town in Connecticut on Friday hit me. Hard. As more details and names were revealed through the day yesterday, I was progressively saddened. I happened to come across a lot of good resources people posted on facebook. I’m sharing them here because it’s the least I can do. My heart goes out to those families that lost their loved ones, and I hope and pray that this is the last time we see this happen. Enough is enough.
A few posted Fred Rogers’ comforting words. That image appeared on the Huffington Post.
A post about how not to talk with children about this.
Via my friend Sunny’s profile: “Children ages 5 to 14 in America are 13 times as likely to be murdered with guns as children in other industrialized countries. Here’s a measured and fair analysis of the problem and solution.” Here’s the article.
Sunny also asked around for a place where we can donate to prevent gun violence, and The Brady Campaign was one suggestion.
Adam came across the One Million Child March on DC for Gun Control group on Facebook and we both joined right away. If it happens, we’re going…no question. Parents for Sane Gun Control is another page to follow for resources and more. I haven’t come across any about mental health awareness just yet, but if I do, I’ll update this post with that information.
And a friend of a friend shared this story, which warmed my heart. I don’t know if this was at all related to the Newtown tragedy, but I still found it poignant. “Last night, I sat across from a young girl who was crying on the subway. As I sat there wondering what the right/proper thing to do was, a young kid sat next to her and said, “You okay?”. She nodded, visibly embarrassed. He sat quietly for about 30 seconds, and then pulled out his ipod. He handed her one headphone and put the other in his own ear. Sometimes humans break my heart.”
Lastly, I also found this story a very personal way for a mother and writer to address the tragedy.
I’ll wrap this up with just one more thought. I think about Otto’s safety all the time. But I know I have to recognize that there’s only so much I can control in the big world outside our door. At home, it’s going to be a different story. I want our home to be a haven for safety–not just in the physical child-locks-baby -gates-colorful-berry-tasting-medicines-out-of-reach sense (which, I’m learning, is still no guarantee against accidents), but in the more abstract feeling sense too. I want him–and me and Adam, too–to walk through our apartment door ever day and give a little sigh of relief that we’re in our own little safe place, where we love each other unconditionally and together we find joy in both the everyday mundane and the unexpected delights. And when sad things happen, we know this is the place where we can bind together and be strong/grieve/help others/look for the helpers. And on that note, it’s time for a cup of soup on this rainy afternoon while I wait for Otto to start the post-nap chatting in his crib. A little mundane, and a lot delightful. xoxo.
