I like to know what's going on.
I like to hear things.
I even like to gossip.
I don't want to know about this.
Not any of it.
I don't want to know why or when or where.
I especially don't want to know how many.
I don't want to think about unopened Christmas presents.
Or left-behind sisters and brothers.
I don't want to fathom a mother's arms who are holding special stuffed animals,
trying to smell a familiar smell,
instead of tiny little warm bodies.
It's too much.
They were 6.
She is 6.
I have stayed away from the news.
Stayed away from Facebook
I don't want to hear the childen's accounts of what happened.
The sensationalism of it all.
It makes me so very sad.
So instead I do what every other fortunate mother is doing.
I hug her tighter.
And relish her smell and giggles.
And even her whinyness.
Cause she is still here.
I still have her.
No random act of awfulness has stolen her from me.
Today we are in our matching jammies.
Baking cookies and finishing up our homemade Christmas presents.
I am so lucky.
So very, very, very lucky.
God bless those affected.
God bless those families.
God bless those mothers.
And God bless those sweet little boys and girls.