December 19, 2012 by Colleen Morris
I just can’t shake it. I’ve been crying for 5 days. I’ve had insomnia. Slowly dozing off by 1am, just to wake back up at 3am..4am..5am. Then the kids are up by 7am, or 8am if I’m lucky.
At my cousin’s house on Monday, my mom, as moms do, pointed out my dark circles. Then told me I looked like I went battle. Have I really been walking around looking like a mom gone mad?
Yesterday I was so tired, thanks to my 4 sleepless nights, I woke up on the couch at 10:30pm. I was to take my first shower of the day after I put the kids to bed. Then stay up addressing my already late xmas cards. Instead, I snoozed all night in my lulu lemons. Too tired to even change or shower. I know. Gross.
(BTW, day #2, and still haven’t gotten around to changing. Thanks to my kid’s persistence at 7:30am, doing this extremely time consuming cardboard dozer wearable project thing this morning. Don’t ask.)
So why can’t we moms just stop crying. I read this “get the tissue box out” piece this morning. And it really hit home. We know “what 6 looks like.” It’s true. We do. We know their smiles and their innocence.
My son will be 5 in March. He will be starting Kindergarten here in Connecticut. He’s already nervous about taking the bus with the big kids.
Every morning he runs into my bedroom to ask me if our elf returned, then runs around looking for him. Then runs back shouting where he landed. Every morning he is filled with such joy knowing our elf returned – and Santa will be coming soon. This is seriously the best part about my day. I fill up with joy because of him.
Knowing that there are families, only an hour from my home, suffering so beyond the magnitude that I can grasp. Knowing they can no longer experience the joy I have with my son. Knowing they not only have their own grief to cope with, but they are struggling to help their other children who have their own grief and fear and anger and confusion.
I can’t imagine. Yet now I have this fear and anger and confusion. What if this happens to my family? This massacre happened so close. In a small New England town that seems so familiar.
I can’t shake it. And I hope that I don’t. We need to keep this fear in us, so we act. And act quickly. And continue to act weeks, months, years from now.
And change our nation’s views on gun control, ownership and responsibility. Both legal and illegal.
And change our system on how we help and monitor people with serious life-threatening mental illness.
What can we do as a nation and as moms and dads and teachers to protect our 6 year olds? And keep their innocence and joy.
We as a nation need to figure this out today, and take a course of action to change so other families like mine never have to go through what these families in Newtown are experiencing.
I beg everyone of you – moms, dads, grandparents, taxpayers, voters, teachers, lawyers, doctors, bloggers, principals, mayors, senators, the president to all act together to start a movement to never, ever allow a crazy person to take the life of a 6 year old in his or her elementary school ever again. Please.
If I ever lost my children, my life would crumble before me. I pray everyday for Newtown and these families, and children and teachers at Sandy Hook. I can’t tell these families how to pick up the pieces and how to put your life back together. But I can tell them that I am a forever changed person because of this, and will do whatever I can to protect our children.
God bless you, Newtown and all the angels in Heaven.