I had a hard time sending my kids to school today. I watched them get on the bus and I felt more choked up than I did on the first day. My mind goes back to Friday morning and I wonder if parents in Newtown kissed their children goodbye and put them on the bus not realizing that they would never see them on this Earth again. I can't think about it for long. I can't watch the news. I can't see the faces of those sweet little babies.
I have had a pit in my stomach since Friday afternoon. A feeling that doesn't go away. It just stays there and reminds me of the horror that happened that afternoon. It is a similar feeling to the one I carried around with me for a long time after 9/11. When I had a three month old baby that was mine to take care of in this world that had suddenly become unsafe. When I shopped for canned goods and duct tape and plastic sheeting to make a panic room. Whatever it took to keep my little boy safe - I was going to do it. Though the canned goods are long gone, the plastic is still up in my closet. Every once in a while when I am digging around in there I see it and remember.
I know that horrific things happen in the world everyday, but this one hit me so hard. I think because I can picture it so clearly. I have spent a lot of time in Hailey's classroom over the last month and I see the faces of her classmates on those little children who were killed. I can see them lined up with their" hand on their hip and finger on their lip" listening to the next direction from their teacher. The way they will come up to me and hug me while I am helping in the classroom. How they are so excited to tell me about their visit to see Santa or that they spent time with their cousin over the weekend or that they have a dog named Milo. They all have such a full life ahead of them and to think about what happened to twenty other little children just like them is completely devastating.
My thoughts and prayers are with the families in Newtown.
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