June 17, 2015, was a terrible day for my home. A coward drove two hours to kill people he didn’t know.
He sat with them for an hour while they prayed.
And then he brutally took their lives.
My heart hurts for them, for their families, for my home.
Yesterday we sat and listened to the news, the manhunt, and his capture.
At the neighborhood pool, I listened to a little boy try to explain this to his older friends. They told him it was done by a crazy person. They are somewhere around twelve, they didn’t have the capacity to handle the difficult conversation. This little boy, that plays with my own, didn’t know how to continue, he trailed off with, “I’m sort of scared of white people.”
I didn’t say anything, I just blinked back tears while I pretended I wasn’t eavesdropping. I’m thirty-six and don’t have the faintest clue about how to have these conversations.
A friend of mine called those of us who would normally choose to stay silent out. I write about home economics, not current events is just an excuse to stay quiet about uncomfortable things.
This happened in the place I call home, to the community that is my larger family.
I know what it’s like to get that phone call, to discover that your loved one was violently taken because they were seen as less than. I do not know what it’s like to live a life where I never know if someone will see me for the human being I am.
Evil, in all its forms: ignorance, greed, fear, hatred, and corruption thrives in darkness and secrecy. A friend, who speaks beautifully, but in a protected Twitter account said:
Evil isn’t the opposite of good – it’s the corrupter and abuser of good. It can’t create, only destroy, and this is its impotent rage
I was recently told that if I didn’t begin to let go of the guilt and anger around Laura’s death that I was letting him kill me, too.
I see the parallel.
Today I’m going to Mass.
Peace be with you.