we, like everyone, have been struck by the losses on Friday in the small Connecticut town. so much attention, chaos, media, theorizing. I've thought about those little babies killed a lot this weekend. but that's what bothers me and that's what the deepest sadness is for me as I watch this.
for now, the world is watching, and praying, and grieving alongside. but soon those other lives three states away will go on, as they should, unless they're directly connected. and we will go back to work tomorrow and my sister who's a teacher will go back to work tomorrow and my life will probably be the same as it was on friday at 9:00 am.
but for the moms and dads, especially them, this will never be out of mind or something that they forget. The sadness will chase them down every day. their minds will imagine and try to recreate and build a fake memory of being in that classroom with their baby and try to reach out and hold them. they will replay the day and how they could've altered it but eventually, some well-intentioned person will tell them that they should be doing better by now or say that at least they know their little one is in a better place.
that's where the hollowness of death stings most.
in that loneliness.
in that life that won't ever come back. when you've lost something that can't be replaced.
and even with hope, hope for heaven and justice and an end to evil, the gaps and losses still breathe and grow. because you're still there wishing it had never happened and wishing they were back. even the strongest in faith ache.
falling asleep tonight on the heaviness of loss.