Monday, December 17, 2012

The Sound of Silence

Today I just want to admit that I can't read about what happened anymore. I can't listen to it anymore. My ears cannot bear to hear about the families, or how parents and children are dealing with the news.

I. Just. Can't.

On Friday, I was told about it while at work and I held myself in as much isolation from details as possible until I saw it fleshed out on the evening news and on Facebook. Then, I bawled.

That night, during brief moments of sleep, I had dreams about my years as a teacher. About the students I taught. I remember their progress and how I watched them grow and learn. I remembered how much I cared for those littles and how they were as much a part of my life as I was theirs.

I cannot even imagine...

I cannot write the words to rehash any details that would make this post coherent. I will not give a stance on gun control or health care. I will not think about the what-ifs.


I can only pray for the lives lost, and those who suffer in the wake of this horrific tragedy.

A prayer.

The sound of that overwhelming silence drenched in love and sorrow is all I can give.