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.
I too have been mourning the loss of those little children. My thoughts have ranged from "how could someone do that to little kids?" to "oh the parents and the other (surviving) children in the school, how do they move on from something like this".
ReplyDelete"Jesus loves the little children" has been playing over and over and over in my mind and heart. We can find comfort that those children that lost their life on Friday are in heaven, celebrating with Jesus, dancing with the angels... We need to think about that, because we'll never get out head and especially our hearts around what (and why) happened Friday morning...
With love made possible my Him,
Amber
Williamsport, PA
On hearing the news I was paralyzed, it seems unfair that parents have to go through that time.
ReplyDeletehopefully never be repeated.
I love your blog, and I cried with your video.
What you have is pure love
A hug from Spain
Beautifully said, Larissa. As with you, my thoughts are with those parents, prayers that they can find peace, somehow, in knowing God loves all His children especially the innocent. Rene
ReplyDeleteAlthough this post is short, it's so very poignant and well written. Sometimes a few well-chosen words are better than a whole lot that say nothing. You captured the essence of living with grief after-the-fact. My sister died 3.5 years ago, and that "gap" between me living in this world and reuniting with her in the next definitely aches. Thank you for putting into words something that is hard to say.
ReplyDeletemy friend Barbie just told me about your blog. you guys are beautiful and I resonate with this post. the question on my heart is how to honour the parents who have lost children with the way I care for my own, not just this week but always.
ReplyDelete(i'm from western PA but live in Australia these days)
grace to you! -becca
well said Larissa . . .
ReplyDeleteI love you.
Lori
Not only should we be praying for the families of those children but we should be praying for the family of the killer. We do not know what they are going through... guilt... sorrow...despair... they need our prayers just as much. Please remember them as well.
ReplyDeleteSo true, Larissa. Five months after my son died, my mother-in-law said to me as I was choked up over it for a moment, "You shouldn't still be crying. Aren't you over it yet?" Now, 22 years later, I still shed hot tears from time to time. Like you said, always with faith, but always with the ache from the "gap" in my heart and my arms. Well spoken, Larissa and I, too, grieve with those parents who will now live with the gap and the ache.
ReplyDeleteLeisa in Round Rock, TX