One year ago, we lost 26 points of light. It was a day we all felt that evil won, good vs bad wasn't even a battle, and little faces and brave adults were taken from us. I have read and seen testimonies from those that "survived" and I have heard the outpouring of love and sadness. It was a day to remember a loss, a loss that empties our souls and leaves a hole, almost too big to fill.
The one year anniversary of Sandy Hook.
As I read and heard moms, parents and loved ones speak, they are not filled with rage. They are not filled with anger, they are filled with love and they have decided to choose good. They have decided to let love into their hearts because love is the only light that can lead you out of darkness. Their 26 points of light were taken in hatred, they were stolen from their loved ones because hate took them away. But, their memory lives on in the light of love. And all they ask, is that each day, we all choose good and we all take care of each other.
Evil did not win.
Love, it's much more quiet than hatred. Hatred gets broadcast and there is attention drawn to it. But acts of love, they happen in the quiet moments. They happen sometimes when no one is looking and they happen because we decide to love.
Hearing from them, their words, their outpouring of loss and how through this year they have somehow managed to find love again. They have managed to get up, each day and forge forward. They see the ones they have lost as points of light and love in their life and they try to carry on in their memory and live a life they would have wanted them to live.
As a mom, just like any mother, any parent, any person that has the weight of family and love, I always tend to forget how fleeting our time together is. I take advantage of the days, I yell when a gentle reminder would have been good enough, I scream when a quiet time out would have been more effective, I hurry, I plan and I juggle. Just like we all do, I try. But, what this week has reminded me is that I get to kiss them goodnight, every night, that I get to see their faces light up in the morning, simply from seeing us again. This week reminded me that there is magic in childhood.
We all remember the day, we all remember the loss, and we all remember the fear. But, what I was reminded of on this anniversary is to hold them, and kiss them, and dance with them, and sing silly, and let them play together. I was reminded of how important this time together is, how overwhelming love can be. I was reminded that the weight of family is heavy because it has to fill you up and make you feel whole. Love is the weight of family.
And so, today, our piece of the world is covered in white. There is snow to be plowed, and played with, and snowmen to build. There are little snow suits and little gloves to put on and little hats that warm little ears. There is an excitement that only snow can bring and an innocence only children can remind you of. So yes, I will play with you. Yes, let's bake those holiday cookies together. Yes, let's go and see the snow, let's make Sunday breakfast and let's remember that we love. We always choose love.
