I don't know how to process tragedy. Especially one of this magnitude. I go back and forth between wanting to plug my fingers in my ears saying "la, la, la" and soaking up every minute detail I can find, but either way with the urge to throw up.
I have nothing to say because there are only feelings. Feelings and tears and tears and feelings. I have nothing. Nothing but that deep, dark, gut-wrenching ache. And the fear of hopelessness.
And why. I always want reasons, even though I know there is absolutely no reason that will appease me and make something like this understandable.
There is fear and darkness. And I don't want that fear and the darkness to take over. And yet sometimes it's so very hard to find the light. How can I laugh and be silly when so many mamas are crying? Yet, how can I not?
I hug and I kiss and I let it roll off my shoulders when my preschooler accidentally finds a Christmas Santa gift. I shudder and twitch knowing I was preparing for a school tour for Kindergarten next year, when horrific events were unfolding.
I take a breath. I say a prayer. I let myself be sad. And then I let myself be happy. I hug my children. I vow to be love. I vow to be more and more love.
And I try to find hope. Let there always be hope.