Friday, December 14, 2012



No words...


  1. I had no words to express the sorrow I feel, but I would like to share these words from my son, John. He wrote...

    "Posted this on Facebook, but I thought you would appreciate it:

    This morning dawned on twenty sets of parents who are being driven to madness by grief. They will live the rest of their lives skirting around the tattered edges of their loss as though it were a giant sinkhole in the middle of the kitchen floor. And into that sinkhole will slide their hopes, their dreams, their plans, their purpose. Siblings will grow up in homes that are perpetually burning to
    the ground in the flames of loss. They will grow up, have children of their own who will see pictures of their tiny aunts and uncles, as they were, frozen in the days before. This tragedy will reverberate down through generations, never fully disappearing, its permanent stain indelibly shaded into the landscape of time.

    In the coming days and weeks, the simplest things will cause unendurable pain. Backpacks will be unpacked, revealing uneaten snacks. Names will be peeled from cubbies. Christmas presents will sit unopened. In their rooms, PJs remain on the floor, where they were hastily cast aside in the rush to get ready for school. Artwork, with its chunky color and rough-hewn joy, will flutter for years where it was placed, with pride, on the refrigerator.

    In a thousand tiny ways, our little ones touch our lives every day. Never take them for granted, because every breath they take is a gift, every mark they place on the world is a miracle, and every smile they bring to our face is a moment worth living a lifetime for.

    My heart breaks for our neighbors up the road.


  2. Shattered words and shattered lives. I know that my opinion stands counter to many Americans but it is time to come to truth about the second amendment, what it really means (an armed militia to defend tge country), assault weapons in the hands of the mentally ill for whom America has turned its back, sent it to the care of local communities without knowledge or resources and set all of this dysfunction against a background of increasing acceptance of unmitigated violence.

    To read the names of the victims, most six or seven. To know the killer first killed his mother and then killed those who tried to help him. Sorrow is not a deep enough word, the power of keening voice of loss against unimaginable horror only starts to match sound.

    America owes its children more than this. I, with all my heart, hope we rise up to power and say enough is enough of this madness, lives mean more than unregulated access to guns.

  3. I'm sorry to learn this has happen not once but numerous times in your country. I have no words of comfort to offer but I tend to agree with the 2nd comment.


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