Tag Archives: Newtown Connecticut

No Words for Newtown

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Well, it’s awful.

Horrible.

Unthinkable.

And…oh, my God.

We all feel it…

But words don’t meet the challenge.

It’s too much…

The knowledge that this can happen. That it did happen.

It weighs on my mind and fills my heart with heaviness.

In that, it has given me a common bond with every other person living in the shadow of this horror.

I’ve listened for what others have to say… watched to learn from how others handle it.

Words of comfort…

Words of sorrow…

Words of tribute…

Talk of change.

Our president is very good at this. Sadly, very well-practiced, too.

My sweet daughter brought it home by speaking of her own grief, her difficulty in talking to her own children, and by honoring their teachers.

Robert Genn, an artist whose newsletter almost never touches on the political, wrote of the tools that we choose, and eloquently suggested that we choose the paintbrush, the cello…not guns.

Here on Beaver Island, we met on the beach.

We lit candles.

There was some talk about the tragedy and the grief, the lack of understanding and how to move forward.

It was a good effort, but words seem to fall flat in the wake of this travesty.

There was a song. A prayer. Then the suggestion that, before parting, we give each other the sign of peace.

As we moved around to shake hands, pat shoulders, give hugs…I realized¬†that was exactly what we needed.

A bit of comfort.

Understanding.

The knowledge that we’re all in this together.

And that is all that I have to offer.

Words are not sufficient.