December 17, 2012


It's been a hard December, friends. A hard hard December.

In the wake of Christopher's grandmother's death came the news that two police officers had been shot in Memphis, one losing her life and leaving behind four children, and directly (I mean minutes later) news of the shooting in Sandy Hook, CT broke. 20 babies dead. Seven adults dead. Twenty seven families who will never know the same joy around the Holiday season.

My anxiety has been in overdrive. Friday I sat at my desk with my heart pounding, my arms weak with their need to hold Evie, to twirl her curls, sniff the special spot on her neck just behind her ear and drink in her whole aliveness with my own eyes, until it was mercifully time to leave. I've gone through the motions all weekend. Making a breakfast brought to us by elves, painting ornaments, making salt dough Santas, going to Zoo Lights, ordering presents and going Christmas shopping.

And the second I stopped there it was again. Crushing grief. Dead babies. Major anxiety.

I prayed for anger, for bitterness, for rage to overwhelm the despair and sadness. It never came and likely never will. I'm not one to go around with anger in my heart. I feel things too much to let anger in like that. So while others have let the anger bubble over and called for vengeance, others have debated gun control and mental illness, I've just felt... sad.

But it's Christmastime, and I've got the world's brightest most beautiful toddler to introduce to it all. I've got 10,000 more "Woah, momma! Woah!"s to hear, cookies to bake, presents to wrap, the Christmas story to read, snuggles to snuggle and cocoa to drink. So I am trying to pull myself out of the funk.

I've been practicing my self care by taking a walk at lunch, eating something healthy, sitting near the sun and now writing. I've wanted to write all weekend but couldn't get the words past the lump in my throat, the coldness in my heart. And it seems in remembering that there is still good in the world, that I deserve to be happy, that it's ok to feel joy still I've manged to clear those blockages and put a bit of it into words.

When I feel the weight of this unspeakable heinous tragedy start to bear me down I try and remember the good I see in the world, people carrying groceries for the elderly, a couple holding hands, random acts of kindness, a quiet morning at the beach, my toddler's infectious giggle and that I believe in angels.
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