I weep for my son

I know it has been a while since my last entry.   Today’s events prompted me to sit down and get these thoughts out of my head. 

Today started with my thoughts on other parents in our hometown, where a threat had been issued to shoot twenty children in five schools between two counties.  No names or places had been specified, it was a general, vague threat, but it was there.  I was thankful that I was able to get a job that enables me to homeschool my son.  I wasn’t faced with the choice of putting him potentially in harm’s way or potentially losing the job that allows me to feed him. 

There was no question in my mind that he was safe, at home with me, re-enacting various battles from World War II.  I hugged him repeatedly, finally eliciting an “Ugh, mommy.  That’s too much hugging.”  I am OK with that, since he is alive to tell me it was too much. 

As I got ready to leave for work, though, reports of the Boston Marathon bombing started hitting the newswaves.   I want to not talk about it in front of my son, I want to avoid this topic because now, he is getting old enough to understand that this stuff is bad, that our world is not safe.  And I want to cry.    

The last mile of the race was dedicated to the Newtown victims.  Someone deliberately destroyed something that was there to comfort the families of that tragedy.  If they find out who did it, my bet is on a gun nut because of the national discussion of gun control, and I feel shame.  Someone took a marathon and a memorial and used it as an attempt to politicize it, additionally causing more pain and hurt. 

How is this our world?  How can I look at my son and tell him that good will prevail?  I will continue to teach him about peace and love, forgiveness and hope.  I believe in them, even in our darkest hours.  But right now, it’s pretty damn dark, and hope seems so very far away.