Hearts in Connecticut

I moved my children back to my home state of Connecticut for a very specific reason, so that I could raise them in a safe, healthy place.  So they could enjoy the four seasons and all the beauty New England has to offer.  I researched cancer rates, crime rates, water quality, air quality, school systems, and you bet your ass I know where every sex offender within a 50 mile radius is (there are only 2).   We have lower obesity rates, excellent school systems, great universities and, overall, low crime.  Our state is so annoyingly perfect, it was even the focus of several movies like Stepford Wives that tease of our over-the-top perfection.

Then, today happened.  I write my blog not for you, or even myself.  This is really for my children.  Not because I am so wise, or have so much experience or knowledge to offer my children.  Only because I want them to know someday, everything I felt while raising them.  They will know of this story, I'm sure, but fortunately, they are far too young to understand it now.

I love living here.  I grew up in Connecticut, moved briefly out of state, and returned to raise my children here.  To give them roots, to grow our own food, to play outside on the dirt roads without fear.  Fantasy.  For there is certainly always fears in parenting.  Am I doing this right? Does that food have too much pesticide or food coloring or preservatives? Do I hug them enough? Are my punishments and consequences fair?  Are they developing quickly enough, or too quickly? Do I lose my temper too often?  Most of us parents have these questions, they are normal....I think.

And Now?  Will they live through the school day?  Is that a new normal question?  I think an article in The Onion says it best with today's article entitled "Fuck it All".

http://www.theonion.com/articles/fuck-everything-nation-reports,30743/

Yup, that pretty much sums it up.  Wasn't there a time when even wars were fought with dignity and organization? Where there were some rules of humanity that were followed no matter what the circumstance?  Where women and CHILDREN were off fucking limits?  Apparently, that time is long gone.  In the most perfect little state, in a sleepy little town, babies are murdered.  For absolutely no reason.  Because there is no reason, that ever did or will exist, for this.

I can't stop thinking about those parents.  Who have to go home to their kids' toys on their living room floors.  To the dirty clothes strewn about the bedrooms, the clothing they will never want to wash again because it still smells like their children.  Clothing that they will cling to, thinking it was only a day ago, a week ago, a year ago, that their child was alive and wearing this shirt.  The parents who will struggle to remember what the last hug felt like, did they hold on long enough.  The last time they smelled the top of their head, tucked them in.  The Elves that won't have any reason to move tonight,  or ever again.  The Christmas presents that will never be unwrapped.  How Christmas, birthdays, any day, will never be the same again.   Unmade beds, unworn clothes, promises of holiday magic, a new year, and upcoming summer vacations, crushed to nothing.  To non existence.

I feel a depth of guilt for even having children.  My children are here because I wanted them here.  They never asked for this life, I'm the selfish one who needed them, wanted them, created them.  And now, they have to live with my decision, literally.

For years we will search for answers that don't exist.  Grasp at any rationale or reasoning that either isn't there or is but offers no solace.  Could any reason? We all need something to reassure us, something to comfort ourselves with, to feel that, once again, it will never happen to us.  Isn't that the true innocence of childhood? They don't think anything bad will ever happen to them? Isn't that the bubble of security we as parents create for them so they may grow without being stifled in that paralyzing fear that, we as parents, all too often experience?

I have no answers, none of us do.  If I did have any, that would bode far worse for our world.  All I know is that I have to work so much harder to maintain that bubble.  Maybe things such as this happen as frequently when our grandparents were growing up....but how would we know without television, fast vehicles, Internet and access to every corner of the world through our technology.

We need more heartwarming human deeds, random acts of kindness, regular acts of caring, respect, and love.  We all need to stifle our hate, anger and judgement of one another.  We can learn from this, we have to.

I cried so hard these at few days.  Not just tearing, not weeping, but I cried with gut wrenching, nauseating choking sobs that looked and sounded about as ugly as I felt.  I am so grateful, that I am still crying.  I found myself so relieved, and happy to see how many other people did the same thing.  It means we haven't lost it all, it means we may be save-able, it means there are enough of us  to make big changes, and, maybe someday, we can all feel safe again.