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I was subbing the day it happened- not there, not in that school, that town, that state. But I had been surrounded by the magic of children all day. I was in that glow bubble that I get into when I teach. I was in the thick of joy when I walked in my front door and saw the candle on the mantle piece. My husband met me at the door.
"You lit a candle, that's so nice." I said, smiling up at him.
That's when I saw the pain- but before I could ask- he said, "It's for the children."
I was puzzled, "Our children? They aren't home yet- what children?"
"The ones killed- in the shooting this morning- at the school in Conneticut."
My breath left me, "No, don't say that. No!" I whispered, as I began to shake.
That's when he told me and I started to cry.
Like so many, I remember Columbine- but I also remember others and one of the first school shootings- the one at Simon's Rock College in December of 1992. Not many people remember it or have even heard of it but I remember. I was young and I remember hearing that the woman who was checking vehicles at the gate was on the phone with her husband when she was shot. And I remember thinking how awful that must have been for her and her husband and how scared her husband must have been- helpless at the other end of the phone knowing that the one he loved needed him and he couldn't get to her, couldn't stop what was happening. I can't find any details on it now but that is how I heard it back then- when it happened 20 years ago (minus a day) from the shootings in CT.
And with Columbine, I never remembered the shooters' names but I remember sitting on the floor of my room watching our tiny tv clutching my baby son to my chest and sobbing. It was the look on the parents' faces that did it more than anything, that look on their faces as the camera's focused in on the tragedy. The look that said, "Please god, please let me wake up- this can't be happening- where is my baby?" and the look of fear and hope as they scanned the buses for their children, for the face that they held with bated breath, to see. The look on their faces when their child didn't get off the bus, that was what tore me in half- the frantic look of a parent who has lost their child. I sat there wanting to hold them close and make it better.
Years later, when a dear friend lost her daughter to SIDS at three and half months old, she told me that the firemen had to pry her daughter from her arms because she couldn't figure out how to let her go, how to function- the instinct was to scream and hold on and will life back into her child. And those firemen, strong, trained and burly, they wept as they pleaded with her, they wept- all of them- as they gently took her daughter and wrapped her up.
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And there is was again, that lost look of a parent whose child is gone. That look that tears a heart in half. I dreamed for months that I found her daughter alive and well and carried her back to her mother's arms and all was right again. I dreamed it over and over again but no amount of wishing or dreaming changed it so I wrote a poem for them- about her and the gifts she had brought during her brief stay on this planet, and I gave that- a poor substitute for their baby girl, but the words were all I could find.
Months later she said, "In every language there is a word for someone who has lost their parent, in English we say 'orphan' - or someone who has lost a spouse- we say 'widow' - but no language on earth has a word for someone who has lost their child. That is how awful it is- it is unspeakable- a pain that can not be named- not in any language on earth."
I, in no way, wish to imply that there is less pain in the loss of a sibling or parent or spouse or friend. Losing anyone that you love with all the fibers of your being will tear you to pieces- there are no exceptions.
I always find myself wanting to gather those in sorrow and pain up and hold them, rock them and let them release their demons and weep with them until they have emptied themselves of the darkness and can be rekindled into light.
I want to give them back that which they have lost and make it right for them so they will no longer suffer and it is always startlingly painful that I can not do this for them. I can only weep next to them, stranger or not, and wish I was stronger and full of magic- the magic of fixing things-- Fixing the lost, the sad, the broken, the pain, the rage-- this is for both the one acting out and the ones being acted upon. I weep for all of them and that it couldn't be fixed or stopped or soothed or changed into something light and right and well. I want to fix it and make humanity well again- whether it is an individual or a country torn apart by war. I want to understand the reasons why we fight and hurt each other and why we lose something- or someone- precious-- in hopes that somehow, in that knowledge, I will know what to do to make it better, to hold peace for them so they can rest and know they are loved and held.
This race of humanity is a hard one- we strive for the light but so easily find darkness and sometimes- like The Nothing in Michael Ende's book, The Neverending Story, it takes us from ourselves, and from our loved ones- and sometimes it takes them from us and we are left keening.
So, I wrote a prayer. May this prayer ripple out- across county lines and state lines, oceans, rivers and mountains, countries and continents. May this prayer be felt in the hearts of everyone around the world so that we can know we are loved in light, so that we may heal each other:
May we all find our way back to the light together,
Helping each other to find solace when we are lost in the darkness of this magical, painful, confusing and amazingly, brilliant life.
May we remember that the life that courses through us, connects us all.
And that in order for us to hold the light collectively, we must take the time to truly see each other.
May we join hands in recognition of each other's individuality, and in honor of our similarities
As we walk forward towards the light, becoming one with every step.
This is my wish, my prayer and my hope for this planet. It is my hope that this prayer can be heard around the world and answered with true peace and light from all.
