I am incredibly late on this memorial, but better late than never.
I was at work when I heard about the tragic events at Sandy Hook. I remember feeling less shocked than I was when Columbine occurred. The realization that I was not surprised was more shocking than the tragedy at hand.
These were not bullies, these were children, guilty of only going to school that day. Why didn’t I feel angry? Why didn’t I get that gut reaction I used to get when something terrible happens, the one that makes me want to march somewhere with a crowd and shout loudly that something must be done? What had happened to me?
I had grown accustomed to this sort of thing. That’s the heart of it. I had grown so numb that the twenty children were just more numbers to put on a wall. There weren’t people. And knowing that, is a terrible thing.
Perhaps that is why this post has taken so long to write.
But these are not just numbers. These are not just statistics And now, with the real ugly mess sitting before me, I feel the urge to weep, finally.
Ana M. Marquez-Greene
Madeleine F. Hsu
Catherine V. Hubbard
Anne Marie Murphy
Allison N. Wyatt
Spinning like a ghost
on the bottom of a
I’m haunted by all
the space that I
will live without
– Richard Brautigan
The Pill vs. The Springhill Mine Disaster