Another school shooting has happened, this time in Uvalde, Texas. Nineteen kids, two adults killed, more injured. Horrible. Can you imagine what it would be like to be a parent wondering if his or her child is dead or hurt so badly they’ll never get over it? Do you feel what it would be like to be the teachers, either the ones who were killed or the ones who were not and have to live with the aftermath? Do you think about what it would be like if you were one of those children trying to hide while a teenager shot people dead all around them?
Do you think about what it would be like to send your children to school every day and wonder if they’ll still be alive when it’s time for them to come home? Maybe, like me, you have nieces or nephews that you worry about. Just because we don’t have children of our own doesn’t mean we don’t worry about all the children.
Or do you think: Thank God I don’t have children, so I don’t have to worry about this? It’s okay to admit it. Whenever we love someone, we take on the fear of losing them. If you never have them, you can’t lose them.
It’s not the same, but yesterday Annie was attacked by another dog. It was terrifying. I screamed and sobbed, even though she was mostly okay, just a little cut next to her eye. It scared me so much. How much worse it would be if someone attacked my child.
The children who died in Uvalde were young, around 10 years old. Remember when you were 10? So young. Why would anyone want to shoot them? Heck, the shooter, 18 years old, was just a kid himself.
I fear young people growing up watching movies and games where the heroes get into battles and shoot all the enemies, pow, pow, pow. They grow desensitized to the pain and blood and grief that comes when real people die. Just the other day, I watched a movie, “The Adam Project,” in which a kid teamed up with his time-traveling older self in one battle after another. The kid, well-trained with his video games, got right in there, attacking the enemy until only our heroes were left standing. High fives all round. No! It’s actually a good movie, except for the battle scenes.
I have strayed off the subject of being childless by marriage. When children are killed, is it any easier for us because we don’t have any of our own? Or do we feel the pain, too, because all the children are our children, too? Do our partners feel the same way?
I welcome your comments.
Yesterday, I visited a new shop in town and bought a children’s book. “For your grandchild?” asked the friendly woman at the counter. I can see how she would assume that. “Nieces and nephews,” I said and changed the subject.
I had just come from the beauty salon. Luckily this time my stylist didn’t spend the whole time talking about her kids with the hairdresser at the next chair. We were quiet. It was nice. I like my haircut.
Wherever we go, we are the ones who don’t have children.
Hugs to one and all.