On School Shootings

It’s Wednesday. It’s cold and rainy. Yesterday, this happened.

Today, I will place an order for pick up at Target. I will do laundry. I will send my children to school. I will worry about whether they are being picked on or are picking on others. I will worry whether their homework is done and if they’ve done their best work. I will worry about them using their manners. (I will run a collared shirt to Abram when we’ve forgotten today is a Mass day.) Most days, I wouldn’t worry about a shooter, but today I will.

I will call my representatives. I will feel heartbroken and helpless. I will pay the bills and balance the checkbook. I will unload yesterday’s dishes and load this morning’s. I will make each kiddo a list of tasks to finish today when they come home from school. I will hope they come home from school. I will scroll through Instagram. Feel frustrated that today’s outcry will be tomorrow’s outfit post. I will feel hypocritical as I type this.

I will text a friend about a show we are both watching. I will make beds and pick up shoes. I will pick my kids up from school. Today, I will think about all the parents who thought they would be picking up their kids from school. Tomorrow, I might think about them too. By Friday pick up, I will be thinking about our weekend plans.

Our ability to adapt is a blessing and a curse. We should not be able to adapt to this.

I will put one foot in front of the other. I will forget. I will hope to never feel this way again. I will not be surprised to feel this way again.

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  • Thank you for writing this, Kate. I just spent the first part of my morning writing through my own response. Yesterday afternoon I de-activated my Facebook account; I’ve been breaking up with FB for awhile, and yesterday was the turning point. I could not stomach any of the posts that were not about it, nor any of those that were. This right here? This makes me feel less alone in my grief and anger and bewilderment. More of this, less of that. (Also, it’s a powerful piece of writing. IMO)

    • “Grief, anger, and bewilderment”. Yes. So much of those three. Thank you for being here with me, Rita, and reminding I’m not alone either.

  • I have no words for any of this, Kate. It is utterly unfathomable to me that these shootings keep happening. Sending you love, and hoping and wishing (because that is all I can do from here) that something is finally, finally done to make them stop.
    xo Marian

    • “ that something is finally, finally done to make them stop”. This. Thank you, Marian. Sending love to you, too.

  • Well said. Yet again something that shouldn’t have happened has happened. And did not need to happen. I continue onward, but think about those who cannot. What a shit show this country has become.