There’s nothing I can say that’s appropriate. Nothing I can put forth that would hold any meaning, make sense of the wrong, erase the gruesome hurt that I refuse to even imagine for fear of doing nothing but cry all day.

I picked my own children up from school just now, and as they sang me Christmas carols and blathered on about their friends and day, I just hugged them close.

Even saying you’re not going to say something about ____ is saying something about it. It’s still expressing some right / wrong moral or political angle. Who cares more about whom and what at a time of crisis and need, etc.

I’ll post pictures that my kids took of each other this morning, and I’ll be so thankful that I have more than those pictures to look forward to at the day’s end.

I am so, so sorry.




About parentwin

Parent of twins, blogger, writer and journalist. I write things. Sometimes people even read them.
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