snow day :: life as it is
mothers and fathers walk around tenderhearted. skirting fear. avoiding eye contact on a friday afternoon for fear of the tears that will flow if we pause a moment and let the news/visuals/words/details settle in. we come up empty in our searching for answers. why or how or what the fuck… we shove our hands deep into our pockets and kick at pebbles on the ground. heartbroken in our inability to do anything to help, retroactively, to change anything about the events that hurt so many families in connecticut.
my partner, a teacher. our boys, all elementary school aged. news like this hits close to home. we hug and walk through our woods to meet the boys off the bus. adults speak of other things, children play around us. we’re not sure yet what to share, how to share, where to begin, if we are to begin at all. what we want most is to shelter them, to protect them, to shield them in ever feeling fear.
instead we wrap them in love and patience. pizza and a movie. after dinner skate parties on the pond with cousins. laughter and campfires and fireworks that light up the sky like magic sparkling down on all of us.
we are all here together. everyone of us was once a child filled with a wonderment of how the world works.
so, on sunday, when the snow falls and doesn’t stop… when we wake monday morning to a world of white and school is delayed … i make the executive decision to play hookie with my boy. he stays home from school and i take the day off from work. and we play. and it helps my heart heal by adventuring with him and being embraced by the wonder and beauty of mother nature.
i’m wishing you all the love of each others arms. sweet tenderness within your family, and a warm fire to snuggle up to. my thoughts are with all of those families affected by tragedy in connecticut. let’s all pause to hold them in our hearts.