Just as we mourned with Norway last year, the world is mourning with Newtown. Just as with Norway, our personal sadness will be short lived…
Maybe the US will make real and effective strides in preventing gun violence, maybe mental health care will become a priority for public health services, and maybe we’ll continue to remember the children and teachers for the rest of our own lives, but most of us will avoid the perpetual absence felt by the mothers, the fathers, the brothers, the sisters, the sons and daughters of those who were killed.
I quickly close news pages about the shooting. I can’t bear to see the tears, the loss, the devastation in Connecticut. I have felt this before.
A number of years ago, while standing in my kitchen readying for a birthday party, up to my elbows in batter, I wrote a story. My husband had taken the kids just to “get them out of the house,” so I could concentrate on party preparations. Out of the blue, my bliss was shattered by the absolute silence of my home.
No One Home to Lick the Spoon ~ originally published by the Hamilton Spectator Jul 2006
“No one home to lick the spoon, that is a story that has been told,” my Dad said. Sadly, it is a story that will be told over and over again.
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