Monday, December 17, 2012
While driving this morning, they announced the names of the victims. They were first graders. Elisabeth is a first grader. I don't pretend to understand the mindset that can do such a thing, that can look into the eyes of 6 and 7 year old babies and just... pull the trigger. The only thing that I can possibly wrap my head around is that man was very, very, very sick. Maybe psychotic. It's the only thing that my mind will accept.
I had to stop the car, because the tears blinded me so badly I couldn't see the road. My babies. Imagine going to pick up your babies from school, and _they're not there_. And never will be again. I can't imagine that. I won't imagine that.
I've tried to stay away from the news coverage; the pictures are enough to reduce me to tears. But hearing those names, imagining those little faces, so like my daughter's 1st grade class. Missing teeth, dimples, blue eyes, black, and green. Blonde and brown.
I'm still on the border of tears right now. Tonight, I think I'm going to do some special things with my girls. Unlike my usual policies, I haven't let them hear about it; I hope they don't at school. It's a selfish choice; normally, I don't hide things, I don't run from the tough questions, and I tell them the realities of death, and life, and crime, and everything.
But this? This is just _too much_ for me. I can't even keep my voice from cracking when I told my husband that they were all first graders. I'm not ready to answer my girls' questions. I will, when the time comes, but I hope that they don't have to face that for a little longer. Just another day. Please.
I know, a little, what it's like to be the part of a family who has a member just... lose it. I have a great aunt... _had_ a great aunt, who killed her daughter, her husband, and herself. This was a very dear great uncle, too. She was never the kind of person who could hurt anyone, much less herself and her own daughter. She lived for her family. One day, she just... broke.
I don't know what happened with this young man. Some reports say he was autistic, but I don't know that that would really be a part of it. I'm betting he probably had other mental issues, too. I know what that's like, too; my husband has been psychotic. They are not rational. They do not see the world normally.
So I don't know. I'm rambling, trying to keep myself from losing it right now. From running up to the school, pulling my girls out, homeschooling them, never letting them out of my sight.
I know that's not a reasonable reaction, and it's not very rational, either. But I can't help but have the impulse. After all, they go to a quiet school. A nice community. Where people talk and love each other and laugh. Where these things don't happen.
But they do happen. They can happen here, they can happen anywhere.
I don't know what the answer is. I don't think there IS an answer. It's not media, or lack of gun laws, or anything. If we want to lay the blame somewhere, I'm betting it's lack of adequate mental health care. But I don't think even that is all the answer, because as most of us can attest, there are plenty of people with mental health issues that do not seek treatment, either willingly refusing or as a part of their own disease. Even with stellar mental health care, this can still happen.
All we can do is cling to our loved ones, and hope it never, ever happens again.