Sincerely heartbroken that the timeline of our children’s childhoods is marked forever by the actions of monsters.
As I read the first breaking news I hoped it was not a bomb and was saddened by the fact that it probably was.
Tragedies that marked my childhood, it seems, were indeed tragedies and not horrific acts of cowards.
I can only try to raise three men who know that violence is never acceptable.
Mental illness, problems with background checks, loose gun control, poor international relations, it doesn’t matter about any policies when there is evil about.
Bowing head in thanks that not more people were killed. Screaming inside that fear sits in the corners of my mind when teaching my children to live and embrace our entire world.
While I reassure my little boys that the airplane we are on will not crash into a building, I really am lying to them.
I am lying to myself that we are indeed sheltered from the sickness that causes people to hurt innocents.
I am crying that I will continue to lie to my family while telling them that we are not going to die. I am trying to teach them how to live.