Sick angry. That's what I am. Deep down inside my heart aches. And my stomach churns. My throat closes up with the words I want to scream at the TV.
They hide behind children. They trot out their platitudes, and their laws...they pretend they care. But they don't. Unless they've stood there - they don't understand. It makes my breath come harder, my chest heave and tighten. I am so angry I want to cry. Do they have no shame?
My children were not lost to violence. They died quietly, drawing their last breaths in the safety and security of my body. They did not, as far as I know, experience pain - though it's possible they did. But I've made those decisions: cremation or burial. I've slid my hand across that tiny marble casket, and read a poem at that graveside. I've written my child's name in stone.
And my very soul cried out to God in anguish...wanting to know why, wanting to make sense of it all.
But I couldn't.
And those parents in Newtown won't be able to either. Because it doesn't make sense. Because it can't...and shouldn't. In what world would the loss of a child make sense?
They want to pretend, though, that our children are what they care about. They smile sadly on news shows and trot out different plans - to restrict guns. Or to curb violence. We owe it to the children, they say.
And all I can think is that behind those perfectly coiffed facades....they are snakes. Slithering through the grass, some milking the situation for political gain, some pushing their own agenda, and some just too stupid and careless to see how wrong they are.
They have planted their flags on the graves of children - attempting to rally the people to their cause.
But they have no care for the millions of children who lose their lives in car accidents, drownings, beatings or neglect, to illness or wars. They don't care about my children either, the ones they do not count, the ones who are not people, and whose lost potential they do not mourn.
And in the midst of all this, I am grateful. Grateful to the parents of Newtown, who have shown so much grace. They are determined that their voice will be heard - and I understand why. If their children are to be the rallying cry, they want their voices to be heard. I hope someone listens. And I am awed by their courage.
But that is what those others don't understand. To truly speak for a child gone...you have to love them.