I was out most of the day this past Friday and I had not heard about the tragedy until the afternoon. When my children entered the door en masse, I hugged them all and couldn't help the tears that welled up in my eyes.
"I guess you heard," my oldest, Bear, said to me.
I just nodded. Too choked up to speak, too frightened of it ever being me, too overwhelmed with sympathy to those that lost.
Before letting them go back to school this early Monday morning, I sat them all down.
"Don't ever try to be a hero if something like this happens to you. Lock yourself in a closet. Run. Do what you have to do to save yourself."
Sadly and yet proudly, I know these are not the type of children I raised. They would gladly sacrifice themselves to help another without a second thought.
And that double-edged sword twists in my heart as I send them off to school, no longer a safe place.
Though we live many miles from the most recent shooting, I know it can happen anywhere and at any time. I will sit quietly and reflect this morning and try to remember that there is still good in this world.
Somewhere.
I hugged them all and couldn't the best espresso machine help the tears that welled up in my eyes.
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