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I Want to Hold Your Hand

17 Dec

Many will write today about last Friday’s tragic events.  Many will pray and question and cry.  If we aren’t parents ourselves, we all know at least one child.  We are not alone.  So far reaching is this grief – not just across the world.  No, this grief reaches so far into our souls that we are afraid to acknowledge it.  We have no answers, instead we are left with raw, painful grief.  Already, many are citing gun control statistics and mental health facts, and rightly so.  And yet we still are paralyzed by our sadness.

Most days,I write about what I expereience – and so often, my children are the source.  They are my deepest love, my greatest responsibility, and my inspiration to be a better person.  I recently had a thought rolling around in my head about how I was going to write about the new discovery that my eleven year old’s hand is now bigger than mine.  What a moment for a mother to realize the hand that she instinctively held back and out a bit,  always waiting for the littlier hand to reach for it to cross the parking lot, to dodge a mud puddle, or to cling to in a crowded parade… is now cradled by that once-little hand.  I was feeling melancholy and sad.  I couldn’t help but be drawn to that thought as I continue to wrestle with this deeply sad and senseless violence.  The mothers left behind will never have that moment with their children… along with so many other brilliant milestones and celebrations.

In the coming days, weeks, and months, stories will surface of heroism, forgiveness, and unbearable loss.  There will be opinions and facts, investigations and evidence.  As a nation, we will try and pick ourselves up, and send our love and prayers to Sandy Hook and Newtown.  We will know that the teachers and school personnel acted in the heroic best interest of each child, and that in doing so they may have lost their lives.  We will feel helpless.  As I think of my lonley hand and how I wish so badly that the time had not passed so quickly, I can now only look ahead to a time when that hand will hold the hand of his own child, and be tremendously thankful for every day I was blessed with to hold that hand.  In the meantime, I am comforted to know that each and every child whose time passed by too quickly here on earth, has a much bigger and greater hand to hold now.

 
 

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