And talking about the horror in Connecticut. Unbelievable. Yet according to the newspapers here, nothing happened. All of us learned about it online. And the shock wave washed a deep, sorrowful gray over the landscape.
We talked about how to prevent these tragedies, but no one had any answers. All I could think about was why didn't this school teaching mom detect her son's anger? I was so tuned in to my sons' states of mind, I find it hard to believe she didn't see his pain. But then, I was a stay-at-home mom. I had my eyes on my kids 24/7. Today things are different.
As for guns in the house, we only owned one in our lives, Ellis's army rifle, an M16 I think? We got rid of it when I heard noises in the house one night home alone, got the rifle, went downstairs to protect my sleeping children and saw Ellis coming in from his night out with the boys, instead of the intruder I expected. Had the gun been loaded, that would have been a tragedy. Back to the army it went the next day.
My heart goes out to the parents, the children, the teachers, the state. All I know is that time heals, but it doesn't erase the pain. That's forever. A scar.
I painted today, trying to recapture the painting I ruined, because I had no faith in myself, but I don't think my whole heart was in it.
THE PAINTING, A PHOTO OF MY SUBJECT: