Sorrow and Sadness

I haven't written alot lately; I've been working seven days a week, but I'm hoping to start writing more.  I feel obligated to write something about this massacre in Connecticut.

I don't want to discuss gun control, or mental illness, or any other political ideology.  At least not now.  I know that day will come, and I'm sure it will be soon, but first I want to talk about first graders.

I have four children, all girls.  The older two were in school on Friday, and, even as tough as I am, I wanted to go get them when I heard what happened.  I didn't.  But as soon as I got home from work, I hugged all four of them, and told them how glad I was that they were alive.

My first grader, who is the apple of my eye, asked why.  Kids ask why, you ever notice that?  Why, why, why, why, why.  So I told my children that twenty little kids in Connecticut were no longer alive.  My first grader again asked why, so I told her.  Some nut went in there school and started shooting them.

This time, my first grader said, "On purpose?"

I still can't answer that.  Did this guy do this on purpose?  That causes so much pain between my ears that I cannot accept it as fact.  Surely, this deranged young man was possessed by an evil demon.  I simply cannot imagine doing something this horrible to children so innocent.

I have always been a hard man.  I have fought men in nearly every situation I've been in, from drunken brawls, to handing out a beating to someone just because they really needed it.  At one point in my life, I was actually worried I was going to beat someone to death, because of my bad temper.

When the two idiots shot up Columbine High School, I was able to understand their motivation.  I didn't approve; in fact, I found them to be the lowest form of life.  I was wrong.  Here lately, our mass murderers have been terrible, killing strangers, for no apparent reason.  What possible motive can the Colorado theatre killer have?  How about this latest freak?  What could he possibly have had against these kids?

I resisted the urge to go with my children to school today.  I do want to map out their escape route, search out hiding places, identify usable weapons in their classrooms.  But I don't want the other kids thinking my kids daddy is crazy. 

I wonder how much of this story other parents are sharing with their children.  My theory is not to hide the facts, to let my children know that they have to keep an eye out for crazy people.  I want them to know that daddy can't always be there, and they'll have to do their best to avoid bad people until I can get there.  And I really, really want to find them safe at home every night when I get here.