While straightening my 10-year old grandson’s bedspread, I had to stop. Look around. Reflect. Breathe. Nineteen sets of parents of children my grandson’s age in Uvarde, Texas will face whether they can or cannot go into their child’s bedroom. Some may never have the strength to go in. Some may leave their child’s bedroom – clothes, books, toys scattered on the floor, bed unmade- untouched for years. Others will go in, throw themselves on the bed and wail. Others will clutch a stuffed animal or beloved blanket and take comfort in their smell. But, in the end, they know and we know, they will never see or hear their child in their bedroom again. No more bedtime stories; no more tousling their hair as they lay fast asleep. They will not see them grow up, play sports, sing or act in plays, drive a car, go on their first date, attend prom or graduation. They won’t walk their daughter down the aisle or see their son hold his first child.
As a point of reference, the children of Newtown would be in high school now – perhaps driving, going on dates, thinking about college. The Newtown parents, like all parents who have lost a child, will not enjoy the milestones many of us take for granted.
These parents have lost their beloved child forever.
I cannot shake the sadness that overwhelms me this week.
We have been this way before:
Columbine. Virginia Tech. Sandy Hook. Parkland. Red Lake. West Nickel Mines Amish School. Oikos University. Umpqua Community College. Santa Fe HS. Marysville-Pilchuck HS. Isla Vista. Northern Illinois University. Oxford HS.
I relive April 16, 2007 all over again. The agonizing hours of praying, bargaining, hoping against hope that Reema was still alive. Seeing my dear friend’s gray face as she clutched the blanket on her lap as they took that terrible journey down to Blacksburg. My children’s faces when they knew their close friend – their “sister”-had not made it. That day changed us forever and haunts us still. Particularly, when we know what these families, friends and communities are enduring when faced with their terrible loss. A loss that buckles them to their knees.
But, it is not just children and students. It is senior African-Americans shopping in Buffalo and praying in Charleston. Hispanics in a Walmart in El Paso. Churchgoers in Sacramento and Sutherland Springs. Jews at the Tree of Life synagogue and a kosher market in Jersey City. Sikhs in Oak Creek. Asian-Americans in Atlanta. Gay men dancing at a club in Orlando. Nightclub goers at Thousand Oaks. Concert goers in Las Vegas. Movie goers in Aurora. Military and civilian personnel in Pensacola, Chattanooga, Fort Hood, and the Navy Yard. Journalists in Annapolis. Employees in Virginia Beach, Indianapolis, Orange, Milwaukee, and elsewhere.
We cannot continue this way. We can, and must, confront this issue. These children – these teens – these adults – these seniors- had the right to live longer lives. Their families had the right to have their loved one live a natural life span. And all of us have the right to live without fear that when we go to school or work, shop for groceries, attend a concert, dance in a club, worship and pray, that we will not be gunned down.
I can only hope that our elected leaders will forget the platitudes, forget preserving their seat and actually tackle one of the most complex issues of our time. After all, these were children and adults who deserved to live.