My heart hurts

My heart hurts

I'm not a crier.  I don't like to cry and I don't do it often.  But I feel like I've cried more in the past couple of weeks than I have since my mom went into the nursing home.  Nine days ago a 14 year old boy was killed in our town.  Sitting in Michaels parking lot while Jess listened to the end of a song, I was looking at facebook on my phone.  A local friend commented that there were helicopters flying over her neighborhood.  When I got home, I asked Jason if he'd heard anything and he said no.  A few minutes later, he was on facebook and told me a boy had been killed in a hit and run while he was on his dirtbike.  Dirtbikes are a common sight around here.  Kids ride the powerlines and scare the heck out of me cutting across the street from one side of the powerline to the other.  I thought the child had been killed by a car while on his dirtbike but that wasn't how it happened.  He was out with his little brother and his dad dirtbiking on the powerlines when he went around a corner and a man hit him head on while riding his own dirtbike.  The man said he'd go for help (I'm guessing they don't carry cellphones when they're riding so they don't get broken because apparently no one had one).  The man never came back.  That's who the helicopters were looking for.  He was found hours later at a hospital seeking help for his minor wounds.  That's what I don't understand.  Why didn't he send help?  Would the child be alive if he had?  I don't know.  That's just it.... no one can know because this 40 year old man who hit a 14 year old boy head on and said he'd get help, didn't.  They held a memorial ride for the boy a week later and I said to Jason that I don't think if I was that mom I could let my younger child ride a dirtbike again.  Jason said that the kid loves it so of course he's still riding.  Jason can't understand of course; he's a kid.  He doesn't know what its like to look at the picture of a young teen and then at your own young teen the same age and think "What if it were him?  What if it were my baby?"

Then, the following Friday, a crazed gunman went into Sandy Hook Elementary and killed children, teachers, and a principal.  So then, I'm looking at my little 7 year old and thinking "Oh God, what if something happened to her?"

These two events hit me hard.  My cousin blogged about how things hit you differently once you have children and that's exactly it.  Before having children, horrific events or tragedies would make me sad of course but it wasn't the same.  Once you have children, you put yourself in the parents' place and realize it could be your child.  I see a facebook post about James and I picture Jason in his place and I can't breathe.  I hear a news story about the children of Sandy Hook and the thought of life without Jessica stops my heart.  I was home the Monday after the Sandy Hook tragedy and I put Jess on the bus in the morning.  As she stepped on, I had the desire to stop her and say "You know what? You're going to stay home with Mommy today."  Jason doesn't dirtbike like James did but he does participate in dangerous sports - he loves to wrestle and is on the high school team; he just got certified in scuba diving this fall and he and his friends have airsoft wars.  All potentially dangerous activities.  But, as much as packing up and moving my family to a remote island somewhere where nothing bad ever happens, I know that's not reality and I have to let them live their lives.  I know some people think I'm overdoing it by making sure either Mike or I are at every one of Jason's wrestling meets.  After all, the bus takes him there and back; he can't ride with us and they tend to be long, boring and, if they're on a weekday, late.   But, God forbid that something happen to my boy, I want one of his parents to be there with him.  I don't want him hurt and alone.  Is that really so unreasonable?

I saw this video about Sandy Hook and while it made me cry, I thought it was beautiful.  It's from the show, The Voice.  I saw it on the last online post I opened about Sandy Hook.