And I am heartly sorry.
Heavy with grief over the morning’s news, there were no words, only heartache for the world that we share.
From my pillow, before dawn, I read about the carnage in Nevada and I first thought of Jeff. His birthday is this week. We, as parents think of the moment of our children’s arrival on our planet. We are filled with hopes and dreams, never a care about the evils of the world. And this is how it should be.
Yet, I am so heartfully sorry. I feel responsible, at least in part, for the state of things. We speak easily about how things use to be. But didn’t we grow up, the first generation of T.V. viewers, watching cowboys slay Indians and vice versa? I was a tomboy and played “soldiers” with the boys; little green army figures that we’d strategically set up in the grass and dirt only to have them blow each other apart with make believe bombs. I felt a queeziness each time this occurred, but did I say or do anything? Maybe I went home and told my Mom I had a stomachache. Now that’s a budding activist.
We learned that the Russians were out to annihilate us and taught to hide on the floor under our desks, covering our heads with our arms and hands. The teacher scurrying to the windows to lower the blinds so that when the bombs hit the glass wouldn’t shatter quite so badly on us. We had to know exactly where each and every fallout shelter in our community was and how and when to get there. I developed nightmares and daymares that the bomb would hit while I was separated from my Mom, Dad, brothers and sisters and we’d all die desperately trying to find each other in vast nuclear nothingness. All while I was in my “formative years”.
JFK, MLK, RFK, George Wallace, Lee Harvey Oswald; assignations and shootings on camera, some live. My Dad crying in the living room on November 22, 1963. The only time I was ever to witness such a profound sadness.
Some say it’s today’s world; kid’s today, spoiled, we had to walk to school, video games, movies, internet, porn, sex, violence, guns, too easy to access. Parents aren’t paying attention. Trump, Obama, the government, the cops, the libs, the conservatives, the right, the left, the in between. The weather. These lives matter, those lives matter, taking a knee, standing up, sitting down. The ex, the in-laws, the doctor, lawyer, Indian chief.
Perhaps they’re correct.
Maybe we are all responsible.
I am responsible.
And I am sorry.
There was a man who said to me just yesterday,
It’s time to live by what is fair
I don’t have a P.H.D. in Sociology or Psychology. I don’t know the answers to what is wrong or how we as humans can fix our world.
I do know that the morning was filled with Sun and fish and people living ordinary Monday morning lives and sorrowful news.
And that I hope and pray for the souls of those taken by the sixty four year old gunman in Nevada.
No kid, this shooter.
I prayed for their families and friends.
I am sorry that it has come to this.
And I am forlorn.
I hope and dream for a better world for you, my son and for all of us.
And please, let’s find, let’s make in our world, some measure of peace.
Edited 1.8.18 for <a href=”https://dailypost.wordpress.com/prompts/forlorn/”>Forlorn</a>