Tragedy...

Of the two, tragedy and comedy, I prefer to laugh. Anyone who knows me at all, knows this is the case. Even so, I want to address tragedy in today's blog.

I am stunned, as are many people, at the tragedy in Connecticut. The horror this even has inflicted nationwide and beyond is rippling in and out of conversations and overshadowing the joy this season usually brings. Even in my most "Bah Humbug" moments, and I have had many, I have never considered something so violent, deadly, and inexplicable. Somehow, every year, the spirit of the holidays touches me and I feel the peace and joy the season brings. 

I mourn for the parents, grandparents, siblings, other family and friends of those taken from their homes and community. I feel the abyss of pain as I look into it, but I cannot jump into that abyss as so many parents have been forced to do today. I hope to never understand that horror! I wish there was a way to take that abyss, make it spit out all it has sucked in today, and seal it so that no person could ever fall in and know that despair. 

Then I think of a song. One of my favorites... "If I Could Go Back" from Burt Bacharach and Hal David's Lost Horizon.

"How do I know this is part of my real life?
If there's no pain can I be sure I feel life?
And would I go back if I knew how to go back?
What good is time when you're sure of tomorrow?
Can there be joy where there has been no sorrow?
And would I go back if I knew how to go back?
Will I find there is really such a thing as peace of mind?"

And I consider the pain I have known throughout my life. The losses I have felt, including the loss of my unborn daughter so many years ago. It cannot compare, I realize, to the loss and pain of the family and friends of the victims in CT, but I can see a pattern. 

Many times I have realized that I would not go back. I have evaluated my life and have seen where it was one horrible event that seemed almost insurmountable at the time that put my life in a good direction. So many mistakes, but so many lessons and so much good at the same time. My regrets have not come from what has been done to me, but from what I have done to others.

Beautiful, innocent, pure children were taken from their homes, from their friends, from their parents and grandparents. They are, each one, entirely irreplaceable. There is no way to console or to condone. But I mourn for those left behind because the beautiful purity of those children remains untouched, except for a few brief moments, and they know peace.

There is no way to express the agony this situation and event has caused on so many levels for so many people. I have wept. I will weep more, I'm sure.

And now I pray for those left behind, not just those close, but for all those left behind who are left dealing with the repercussions and waves of agony as they ebb and flow throughout each moment.

Hold your children closer - or just your neighbor. And, please, pray for peace.