Since
Friday at about 10 a.m. Central time, it’s been a tsunami of words about what
happened in Newton, Connecticut.For the first few hours, many of the words were
incorrect – we experienced the hypersensitivity of the news cycle as the media
tried to be first with most, watching what’s was happening on social media,
competing against each other, as the horror finally unfolded behind them.
Too
many words. Useless, wrong words. It took some time for the right words to
begin crowding out the wrong words.
Then
came the groping for understanding. What happened is unfathomable. And our human
minds began reaching for something – anything – that would explain this. We
need to explain this. If we can’t explain this, we are afraid it can happen
again. This is the stuff of our worst nightmares, and we are afraid we will
never be able to explain it, that we will never know the reason for why the
gunman did what he did.
Not
enough words. Too few words.
I
thought of Aleksandr Solzhenitsyn, something he wrote in The Gulag Archipelago: “The line dividing good and evil cuts
through the heart of every human being.”
Words
we don’t like to hear.
We
are writing blog posts, emails, poems. We are drawing pictures and posting
photographs. We are offering meditations. We’re ranting against guns and video
games, and we are defending guns and video games. One blogger I read suggested
we stop everything and simply observe a prolonged silence.
Painful
words, encouraging words. We don’t know how to comfort a father and mother
whose six-year-old daughter was gunned down for no apparent reason other than a
lunatic decided to do it. We don’t know how to comfort a town which lost 20
year children and seven adults.
I
made myself read the names and birth years of all of the victims. I lost it
when I hit the third on the list, but I made myself read through every name on
the list. These were real people with hopes and dreams and problems and life
and whole lives ahead. They laughed and cried and thought that this Friday
would be a school day like any other school day.
No
words. The fact is, words fail here. The only way to comfort is to be there and
weep with the families. That may be the most important thing we can do. Very
few of us know what this is like, what it is to go through something like this,
something that changes you completely and forever.
We
look at our own children and our grandchildren, and we tremble. We have no
words here, either, but we have arms, and our arms may be what we most need.
Our arms around them. Their arms around us. Our arms around each other.
Perhaps
we don’t need words at all.
Photography by Anna Langova via Public
Domain Pictures. Used with permission.
Totally agree Glynn. Sometimes the best thing to do is leave things unsaid, especially when they are cliche driven drivel.
ReplyDeleteYes . . . "Our arms around them. Their arms around us. Our arms around each other."
ReplyDeleteLifting the afflicted in prayer and in love because words don't cut it at a time like this.
Thank you, Glynn, for this most touching reflection.
Your post makes sense to me. I have a card that says:
ReplyDeleteFront:
There, there.
(where? where?)
It'll get better...really.
(when?)
You'll survive.
(how?)
Hang in there.
(why?)
I know exactly how you feel.
(I don't even know how I feel.)
Inside:
At the risk of saying
the wrong thing,
just want ou to know
I care.
When something incomprehensible happens, how can words be put to feelings?
Hugs, prayers.
And yet, words are what we have to share.
ReplyDeleteThank you Glynn for sharing yours. They touch my heart in a real and caring way.
IA
ReplyDeletePraying that the Christian brothers and sisters of Newton have surrounded them with love. Not words. Love. The quiet presence of love...
Not in the school room
ReplyDeleteimagining what more is
but the one word Love.
Thank you for this loving and sane response to all the rhetoric. Sit, weep, hold. Pray. That's about it.
ReplyDeleteThank you, Glynn.
ReplyDelete"tsunami"
ReplyDeletethe perfect word
for what i heard
all day
and the next
the same thing
over and over our heads
it was said
no one knows
and we still don't understand
how evil can show it's ugly face
in a place
where we expect nothing but grace