Little Angels

This has been a tough week for parents throughout America.  For what is typically a joyous and fun time of year, it is now marked with sorrow and pain. 

My heart breaks for the parents in Connecticut whose children were taken away from them because of senseless violence. My heart breaks for the children who lost their parents,  my heart breaks for those who lost their loving partners in life, and my heart breaks for the grandparents who lost their precious little angels. My heart just breaks.

I’m horrified. I’m disgusted. I’m sad. And I am grieving for these families. 

December will always bring the parents who lost their little angels much too soon, pain and sorrow. 

This is supposed to be a merry time of year for everyone. My own children jump up and down over finding the elf in the morning.  Excitement builds as they eat another piece of chocolate off their advent calendar.  They are shaking presents under the tree.

To my children, life is the same and merry.  They don’t know the impact that one gunman caused in a small American town. 

But, to me, life has changed, and it’s hard for me to feel happy this holiday knowing so many families lost their innocent little children, and that other children feared for their own lives during last week’s shooting.

This tragedy is truly a parent’s worst nightmare.  Parents lost their children in a school.  A place where they felt their children were safe.  I drop my son off at school every morning, and, typically, the last words that he hears from me are, “Hurry. Go. Go. Go.  The bell is about to ring.”

It never entered my mind that those could be the last words that he hears from me. 

Dec. 14, 2012, in Newtown, Connecticut, changed that for me.

I don’t care if the bell is ringing; my son will now hear, “I love you!” as he exits out the door every single day.

I will be thinking of the wonderful teachers who took heroic measures to save innocent lives this holiday, and I will certainly be thinking of the little angels in heaven this year.  The nation is grieving for you.

This will be my last column before the holidays, and from my family to yours, Happy Holidays! I wish you joy and peace this Christmas.