Heartache

There are lots of things that come with parenthood. The joys, the thrills and the unbelievable heartache that catches you so swiftly that it almost knocks the air right out of you. This heartache is not from hearing your child tell you they hate you, or from watching your four year old throw the meal you worked so hard on all over the floor. The heartache comes from the thought of being without him, ever.

I never thought something would attach itself to me so completely as my little one has. We are entwined together in a way that only another parent could understand. Life without this child is not a possiblity, not something I ever want to think about.

I often fear for my son. I know the chances of him being super sick or being in some sort of danger are minimal, but as a parent whose mind is prone to wandering, I think about this and have come to know it as my ultimate fear. I never want anything bad to touch him, in any way.

I suppose that is part why the news of todays shooting in Newtown has really rattled me. Some of the children who were at that school were only one year older than my child, forcing me to relate to something so tragic on a level I never thought possible. My god, how can this even happen?

We become so enraptured with these creatures we have created, have loved, have raised. We do everything in our power to protect them, to comfort them, to raise them right. We can't control everything, we can't control the whims and horrible urges of other people and that scares me. 

How do you deal? How do you handle that phone call? How do you comfort a child who has seen what those have? Heard what those have? At such a young age, how can you make them understand? There is lots of healing to be done, lots of work to restore the carefree days of childhood. Its feels somewhat corney to say there is a lot of healing that needs to be done, but its true. 

I have turned of the TVs today. I have stopped watching the news for the time being and I spent time with my son. My heartaches for them, I want to scream at someone, something. How dare you take away what is most precious to a parent? How could you think of hurting people in the most primal and complete way as this? 

There is no heartache that compares. There is no excuse for this level of hurt. There is nothing I can say to make myself or anyone else feel better about this. I'm not even going to try. What I am going to do is be hopeful.