*insert obligatory piece about how kids shouldn’t die at school - vol 18*
My husband sent me pictures of his time at the kids’ elementary school Donuts for Dad event yesterday. My husband, though, is a pretty mediocre picture taker. I didn’t expect much and so I smiled but didn’t inspect them too closely when he sent them to me. They were run of the mill cute.
This shot, though, was sent to me by my kindergartener’s teacher. It’s good, really good I think - not just because of the subjects - but because you feel something when you see this. I feel my 5 year olds arms around me when I see this. Roman hugs us like this consistently. Physical touch is his love language. We usually have to tell him to let go...tell him to hurry up...politely shoo him away a bit, because he lingers.
Today though, I’m wondering how many of those Parkland parents are looking for pictures like this. Searching for a reminder, aching for some peace but mostly just wishing someone was holding their neck a little too tight and a little too long. Im hoping they can feel those arms around them when they look at those pictures.
Today the only thing that’s lingering for me is anger. Anger that school shootings are a thing. Anger that this will run its news cycle and another bad thing will happen that erases it. Anger that schools have to engage in Active Shooter Drills. Anger that we can’t figure this out. Anger that you can politicize something as simple as “Should something be done so that kids don’t get shot at school?”
So I’ll be wallowing in the anger and the sadness for a little bit today because I’m soft that way...but I’ll also be looking for the doers; the ones that plan and make moves. The ones much smarter than me. I don’t know how to take the hurt away but I do know that sitting here in it week after week and year after year isn’t changing anything. And those parents...the ones searching for a shot like this, deserve action. The kids are crying, somebody needs to listen.
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Playground rules apply: Speak the way you'd like to be spoken to and if you don't play nice, I'm kicking you off my monkey bars.