Saturday, April 20, 2013

Anger + sadness

I'm pissed. And I'm sad. But mostly, I'm pissed. Nope, changed my mind again, more sadness. I'm sad for the people, the children, the families that have been touched by the most recent tragedies in the news, the avoidable news. I mention the difference, because there was a lot of gd loss this week, every week. I'm talking about the Marathon Bombing. It's sad. And sad isn't even the word. And the fact that that line & feeling is familiar to me. Pisses me off. And that isn't even the word.

As a person or American or mother or woman or friend or sister - pick a word, any word - as news broke I became numb. Almost like I didn't know if it was actually happening. Some of my closest friends live in Boston. Many good friends were yards away from the blast. I had friends who were running the marathon or watching their loved ones run and then others who ended up quite literally running for their lives. My brother works in Boston and surrounding areas. I lived a few blocks away from the blasts what seems like the other day (reality: 7 or 8 years ago). As I watched the video and photos unfold I knew these areas well. Video looped on streets and store fronts I walked by often. In the wee beginnings of our relationship when he was in San Fransisco and I was Boston I would talk to him, for hours. Since I pace when I'm on the phone I decided to walk instead of wear out the carpet. I walked that street weekly, if not daily.

Later in the week, the locations of the shoot outs, explosions being thrown out of cars in a chase, manhunts and the such - all local. I drove those streets, I know those towns. When the chaos moved to Watertown, most of it took place a few blocks from a friend's home with two small children like me. It was their reality.

The families or people who were directly effected: killed, hospitalized, surgeries, psychologically shaken or broken. Unimaginable. I can't process it. More than it all happening in a neighborhood like yours or where you might have lived lifetimes ago. More than having friends that weren't physically hurt but you know someone who made slightly different choices that day that changed their life. More than all of the six degrees of fucked up Bacon circumstances - these people whose lives are changed, forever, unimaginable. There are truly no words. What can you say?

I was numb, in disbelief. Worried. I was sad. And then, then I got pissed.

This is my reality now. Horrifying news, in my 'backyard.' I see posts on twitter or Facebook like "imagine if this happened all the time" or "this is what it's like to live in X Y or Z." And all I want to do? Scream, FUCK THAT. I don't live in X Y or Z. I do not want to imagine what it would be like for this to be normal. I shouldn't have to, no one should. But more than that? My babies shouldn't have to. But they do. Scratch that, they don't have to imagine what it would be like where shit like this is normal - because in their small and short life times: the middle of September will always be a dark time, shootings at colleges, movie theaters, fucking elementary schools - it's possible. And now bombings - it's all in the realm of their reality. And so much more, and not in a good way "but wait - there's more!" - pedophiles, kidnapping, parents killing children, children killing children, bad people doing bad things. Oh "but wait - there's more" - all the things that cannot be controlled - sickness, disease, accidents, natural disasters. Fuck.

(It's around this time, I needed to take a break. I was feeling like all I wanted to do was say fuck and it was feeling like too much. So I backed away from this post and I saw this. And that's when I realized there was entirely not enough fucks articulated. Because this sums it up: Fuck this week written by Lindy West on Jezebel.)

Taken about a week ago.
When she was that much safer.
So where was I? Oh right. Horrified & numb with sadness.

I'm scared for all of us, literally and figuratively. I'm angry. I'm angry my baby (even if she is 5 years old) tells me in the wrap up of her day she hides in her cubby in her classroom when they have "lock down practice."  Then I have to be asked "Mommy, are you crying???" What the hell happened to fire drills? Am I grateful schools are getting prepared and smart about the threat that is out there? Absolutely. Am I pissed that the threat is there? More than absolutely.

Do I run my own drills with her? Yes. 100%. How to scream "this isn't my Mommy/Daddy help me!!!" if someone grabs her. To look for helpers - other mommies or daddies with lots of kids or the police or firefighters. The helpers, that there are good people in this world - but hell if I'm not going to give her some strategies for the sick bastards out there. To run and scream and don't be afraid. Because that's our God damn reality. That's hers. And I'm so fucking angry about. I'm so fucking sad.

I want to protect her from the unimaginable. The heavy in my heart, it is actually imaginable possibilities, she may witness or experience. Obviously. More than that? I want to protect her from the knowledge of the possibility of the horrific (un)imaginable events.  She's 5, but what about the baby baby (1 years old)? What in the hell will be her reality? 

On Friday, the kid wanted to wear her Red Sox cap. Boston pride. She wanted to wear it because it's her favorite hat. She loves Boston, she loves that hat. She was born there - visits fairly regularly. See: family & friends in the area. It's her first home. Frankly? She just loves the damn hat. She loves telling people about Boston. We've moved around a lot, it's her schtick. She saw me wearing mine. I don't know why she wanted to wear it. But on Friday, I talked her (gently) out of wearing the hat. Not because I don't love her pride in (one of) her hometowns, but I didn't want someone to think that she knew. She's in kindergarten, why would someone talk to her about the bombing, just because of her hat? I don't know, but I don't want to find out. I want her to be naive to her reality for as long as possible.

She'll experience loss in her life. Her great-grandmothers, her grandparents - God willing - eventually her parents. Possibly friends & other family members. In the order it is naturally intended. For just a little while longer, I need her to not know the (un)imaginable. For her not to be as angry and sad as I am - just for a little while longer.


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