Life sometimes provides the best and the worst at exactly the same time. At this time of the year when children are celebrated even more than usual, 20 sets of parents are experiencing a grief that no parent should experience. And on this very same day, I watched a video of my first grandchild, now three and a half years old, play Joseph in a preschool Christmas pageant in London, where he lives.
Today, my grandson’s life spreads before him. He knows only love and safety and trust. He lives a life of infinite possibility. On the video, I watch his small form, dressed in white pants and a white shirt, his blond head enclosed by a silver halo. Angelic-looking under normal circumstances, he is even more so in his Christmas play clothing. He welcomes the “mummies and daddies” to the performance, then takes his spot on the stage with the others, so that they can sing the songs they have been practicing for weeks. Later, he puts his robe on and stands next to “Mary” as she holds the doll that represents Baby Jesus.
On any other day, I would be thinking only of how ironic and, at the same time, impossibly perfect, it is that my Jewish grandson would play such an important role in his school’s Christmas play. That he would be the husband of the woman who would give birth to a boy who would grow to become the symbol of a very unJewish religion. That is, on any other day but today. Today is different. Different in a way that will change, for me and for so many others, all Christmas holidays to come.
Today, I watch the video of my grandson and I am even more aware of the joy and the expectation that radiates from his small face, knowing that for 20 other children, the joy and the expectations are no more. There will be no more holidays, no school plays, no graduations, no mastering the countless things they will learn as they inch their way daily from childhood into adulthood.
That this would have happened at all is horrific. That this would have happened at this particular time of year, when the religious celebrate the birth of a child and the non-religious celebrate simply the joy of giving gifts to children is incomprehensible. Also incomprehensible is the trauma to parents, to grandparents, to siblings.
I turn back to the video. I watch it over and over. I believe that if I watch it enough times, the other events of the day will not have occurred. The 20 young lives will still be in school, thinking only about the presents they will discover under the Christmas tree. When school lets out, they will return home to parents who will hug them and ask about their day. Like my grandson, their lives will spread out before them. They will know only love and safety and trust. They will live a life of infinite possibility, and the very fact of their lives will enrich us all.
Life in the Boomer Lane 
chlost
December 15, 2012
It is a day for such thoughts.
Just think of all of the gifts sitting under the tree that those parents will need to take care of in some manner. The first responders, the teachers, the news people, the funeral homes, the church leaders….all of the people in the ripple of such a tragedy. All those folks’ lives will be changed, as well as the families.
The irony of your Jewish grandson’s role does bring a little smile to me, though. Thanks. I needed that.
Renee Fisher
December 15, 2012
I remember seeing a display of countless small shoes at the Holocaust Museum. When I think about the gifts under the tree, the same emotion comes over me. These things that are left behind, the concrete evidence of the love and the caring that was given to these children.
vyvacious
December 15, 2012
This was beautifully written. I wish I could say something, anything, about this topic that would add to your heartfelt post but I have nothing. Thank you for your words.
Renee Fisher
December 15, 2012
You are welcome. No words are adequate.
jotsfromasmallapt
December 15, 2012
Enough…
http://jotsfromasmallapt.wordpress.com/2012/12/14/enough/
leejtyler
December 15, 2012
Your words are balm for solis for this writer who felt too difficult to meld together. Thank you for putting such a horrid day into something akin to sanity and something close to consolations for ‘evil visited.
Renee Fisher
December 15, 2012
It’s taken me all day to even begin to answer the comments.
yael
December 15, 2012
Beautiful.
benzeknees
December 15, 2012
Such a sad, sad day for so many.
ryoko861
December 15, 2012
My thoughts were “OMG, it’s just two weeks before Christmas!!” The heart break I am feeling for those parents right now is unmeasurable! Actually, the whole community! Even the state! It will go down as an event that will be remembered during this time of year for years to come! Just like the other travesties that have occurred, we will never forget!
Renee Fisher
December 15, 2012
Each event, each child that is lost to us, diminishes every one of us.
Cindy Lutenbacher
December 15, 2012
Beautiful, Renee. Really exquisite. I’ve been doing exactly what you describe.
And I do it every time one of my students loses a younger brother or best friend or cousin to gun violence. Yesterday marks the fifth time for me since Thanksgiving.
I’m not fussing at you, not at all, for I was/am just as heartbroken with Friday’s news. It’s simply the recognition that for many communities, this insanity is daily. And I don’t know how to stop it.
Keep writing, please.
Your fan,
Cindy
Renee Fisher
December 15, 2012
I volunteer with pregnant teens, some of whom face loss daily. One girl wrote in her graduation speech that in one two or three month period over the last year, she lost 17 family members. Yes, for some the losses are a fact of their lives. For others, an unheard of event.
Sonjey
December 15, 2012
Thank you renee. I just keep thinking about how are we ever going to recover from this senseless act? We all felt our children were safe and protected at school. Our teachers and administrators always put the children first. . This will be difficult for everyone for a very long long time.
Renee Fisher
December 15, 2012
I don’t know. That one thought keeps going around and around in my head. How does a parent go on? How does a parent explain this to a child who survived? How does a parent or a teacher continue to believe that he/she can protect their children? What words are enough? What words are too much?
Kris
December 15, 2012
Beautifully said
notquiteold
December 15, 2012
I live in Connecticut. We are just stunned and heartbroken, as I am sure everyone is throughout the country. I don’t know how these people will go on. Some things are just too awful, and we all wish we could make it not happen. Perhaps we can make it not happen again.
Renee Fisher
December 15, 2012
I would like to believe that this time, something will be different. I would like to believe that the people who demand the right to stretch the limits of the right to bear arms, will agree to soften the diatribe, to at least allow for a system that enforces some guidelines. But I honestly don’t think that will happen. They believe that the teachers should have been armed, that that would have made a difference. Nothing is enough for them.
sandecaplin
December 15, 2012
All the more reason to cherish our special treasures…….our children and grandchildren. A very sad time for our country.
Laurie Mirkin
December 15, 2012
Oh Renee, how very sad life is right now for all who were directly effected and for the rest of the world who mourn the idea of losing a child…not the proper order in life where we are expected to pass away before our children. I am afraid to turn on the TV. It’s starting to hurt too much and I can’t do anything for anyone in Newtown, Ct. It would be tragic enough if the shooter would have just shot himself, and I wonder if this is going to be the “in” thing for troubled young people to do…borrow some guns and go shoot up the nearest school, and then shoot yourself. Why don’t these people just shoot themselves, and then I wouldn’t have to worry where and when the next copy-cat assassinations will take place.
If I had school-age kids I’d probably want to home school them at this point, but we can’t dodge life’s bullets for our children, and I know that well. The healing process isn’t just for the parents and kids of Sandy Hook Elementary School. We have all been touched by this tragedy. Do we live each day to the fullest, like it might be our last, or do we just put one foot in front of the other and continue to trudge along? My elementary school had air-aid drills where we ran down to the basement of school and hid under desks. We were hiding from the possible dropping of a bomb in the 1950’s. Now our children are having to learn to hide from other humans.
Renee Fisher
December 15, 2012
Your last sentence is chilling and so true. When we were kids, the “enemy” used to be anonymous people in a far off land. Now it is us.
Rani Kaye
December 15, 2012
Thank you, Renee! It is SO helpful to read your heartfelt words! What a rough time for parents everywhere! Not just parents – oh I don’t know WHAT I mean. This is horrible in a way that’s second only to 9/11. So unspeakably horrible. 🙂 Rani
Renee Fisher
December 15, 2012
I think a lot of people feel that way, that this event brings up the same feelings they had at 9/11. All of these events are horrific, especially since we allow them to continue.
Betty Londergan
December 15, 2012
Renee — I can’t stop watching this tragedy unfold, either … maybe because I’m hoping desperately I can rewind the footage and make it never have happened. I can’t stop thinking of the elementary school where our kids went — it was so much the same kind of school, same kind of great principal and teachers, and same kind of sweet little town — and I remember running up there on the afternoon of 9/11 and watching the children peel out of the school, certain that something bad had happened but not knowing what (a good number of the kids had parents who worked in NYC) …. but this assault directly on the school?? It’s just beyond words or understanding. And on Thursday the night before, they had just had the 4th grade choral concert, with the principal in attendance of course, and were all singing of peace & love. I remember those concerts so vividly … and with such fondness & now heartbreak.
I am so happy that you have that video of your darling grandson…. and
I’m grateful you could write about this in your beautiful way.
Renee Fisher
December 15, 2012
Thanks, Betty. My first reaction wasn’t anger or even grief. It was a strong feeling that I could somehow make it not to have happened. Them of course, the grief and the anger set in. Other countries have almost nothing of the violence that we do, simply because they have rules that protect people, not guns. Yet we go on and on, believing in the myth that we keep ourselves safe by arming more and more people.
Lynne Spreen
December 15, 2012
My first reaction was to call my husband (I was away from home and saw it on TV) and blubber incoherently to him. Then I spent the rest of the day trying to function. It was almost as bad as 9/11; I have an occasional inability to differentiate from others when they suffer. It’s like an overactive empathy gland. I kept personalizing the loss. Today is better but the stories are just starting to come out. I heard of the teacher who hid her class in a closet and tried to keep them brave and quiet while she feared death would come any minute. Or the fact that the principal, it now seems, died because she tried to physically restrain the madman. Such a heroic woman! If we are all a bit dysfunctional for a few days, I think it’s the least we can do for those poor, poor families.
Renee Fisher
December 15, 2012
Oh Lynne, I have thought about that and wondered if I would have had such courage. I still remember when 9/11 hit and my daughter was living at home and working in DC. The smoke from the Pentagon was visible all over. There was no cell phone service. We had no idea what would come next. I paced back and forth for hours, alone in my house, repeating the mantra, “Come home. Come home.” They were the longest hours of my life. I cannot imagine what these parents have gone through.
leejtyler
December 15, 2012
I’ve stayed away from the media today as I choose to spend my time in silent prayer. I also believe that, unfortunately, although they also grieve as reporters, the unseen elements that run the media milk it for all it’s worth. I do not want to be contributing to that unseen element. My choice alone and I understand being transfixed so no judgements as I used to do the same thing. I think of it like a potential copycat crime. The more we give attention to the killer, the more another desperate human being might do the same. I cannot fathom that.
Renee Fisher
December 15, 2012
I understand your feeling about this. And, of course, every act gives tacit approval for others to act in the same way.
toshalot
December 15, 2012
beautifully written, renee
Rani Kaye
December 15, 2012
Just wanted to let you know, I shared your post with my readers:
http://ranikaye1.wordpress.com/2012/12/15/reading-your-blogs-is-good-for-the-soul/
Renee Fisher
December 16, 2012
I’m honored, Rani.