when words fail you

There is a time for making fun and laughing, a time for arguing and politicizing to make a point, and a time for none of the above.

Now is a time for the latter and none of the formers.

As a mother my heart is breaking for those who's arms must feel so unspeakably empty.  As a teacher my heart is breaking for those who's security has been destroyed and who's sense of loss must be unimaginable.  As a human being, words fail me.

In the face of such a horrible event, we seek meaning and understanding.  Truth is, there will never be enough of a reason to make sense of it.  Never.  You could never make sense of something so awful, so incomprehensible.  We want to rise from the ashes, and make something better of this -- and it is my sincere hope we will.

As I sent my oldest child off to school today and I kissed him goodbye my heart ached with the weight of what others are feeling, and my own silent and never spoken aloud fear.  I will leave you with a facebook status a teacher-friend of mine posted that I asked to share.  It embodies my feelings as a teacher, and my knowledge and hope that my children's teachers share these sentiments.

We practice our lock down procedure at school at least once a year and have had to use it several times over the years. What Vicky Soto did on Friday wasn't because it was "her job," but rather instinct. The moment those children enter your classroom on the first day of school, they become "your" kids. You love and nurture them like they were your own flesh and blood. (Which also explains why we have high expectations) Why? Because they become your family for more than just the 180 school days each year.

My sincerest prayers to all of those affected by the events of Friday, and to all of us as we move forward.