Hugs

The other week, as I saw sitting in her room next to her bed in the dark at bedtime, amidst talking about her day, giving hugs and rubbing her back in an attempt to lull her to sleep, she said to me, in that cute little voice of hers, "Oh Mama, I KNOW you love me. You don't have to say it again." I gave her a hug and told her that I would always say it, and that it was important for me to say it as much as possible so that she would feel it and know it always.

This morning, as I ran along the frozen cart paths, the wind in my face, the sun shining above, the frost on the grasses, I was thinking about the families that lost their children in yesterday's horrible and senseless tragedy in CT. I hope that they had the chance to tell their children that they loved them yesterday morning before school. I hope that they kissed and hugged them. I cannot even begin to imagine the horror, the sorrow, the anger, the sadness, the pain, the utter disbelief that these families must be feeling. Is it even possible to process this tragedy, to try to make sense of it? I feel for everyone involved. From all those families who lost family members yesterday, to everyone who had children in that school, even to the young man who was so sick and mentally ill that he felt he must do something that was so horrific and reprehensible that there are no words to explain it, and to all of us. We wish to keep those we love safe, to protect them. But how do we do that when we face so many unknowns? How do we move forward from here? I certainly don't know the answers, although I wish I did.

These thoughts swirled around in my brain as I ran along, but I only know that for myself, it means that I will hug those I love even more often, and tell them and show them I love them whenever possible. In the end, that is the best I have to offer.