I have a seven year old son. His name is Peter. I may have mentioned him before--he is sunshine and wildness and fruity-smelling shampoo.
I had a dream a couple of years ago that he died. I woke up and thanked God it was a dream. I mean, he was 21 years old in the dream, and at the time he was in preschool, but still. I had a hard time shaking it.
Then two years ago, his room caught on fire at bedtime. If it had happened an hour later, he could have died, easily. The firemen all said so.
Whenever it comes to Peter, I worry. Is he somehow unlucky?
Last Friday, he was at school in Northboro, MA, two hours away from Newtown, CT. It was mis-match day, and he boarded the bus at 8:40 am wearing plaid pants, a striped shirt, bright yellow socks, and a Santa hat.
At 3:35 pm, he got off that same bus and even though he didn't know I'd been aching to hug him since noon, when I first saw the reports of the elementary school shooting, he raced down the sidewalk and jumped into my arms. "I had a great day, Mama!" he shouted. "It was so much fun!!!"
And I was so, so happy. And grateful.
Thank you, God, Heavens above, and all the stars for Peter and his sisters, who all came home to me on Friday afternoon.
Thank you.
I had a dream a couple of years ago that he died. I woke up and thanked God it was a dream. I mean, he was 21 years old in the dream, and at the time he was in preschool, but still. I had a hard time shaking it.
Then two years ago, his room caught on fire at bedtime. If it had happened an hour later, he could have died, easily. The firemen all said so.
Whenever it comes to Peter, I worry. Is he somehow unlucky?
Last Friday, he was at school in Northboro, MA, two hours away from Newtown, CT. It was mis-match day, and he boarded the bus at 8:40 am wearing plaid pants, a striped shirt, bright yellow socks, and a Santa hat.
At 3:35 pm, he got off that same bus and even though he didn't know I'd been aching to hug him since noon, when I first saw the reports of the elementary school shooting, he raced down the sidewalk and jumped into my arms. "I had a great day, Mama!" he shouted. "It was so much fun!!!"
And I was so, so happy. And grateful.
Thank you, God, Heavens above, and all the stars for Peter and his sisters, who all came home to me on Friday afternoon.
Thank you.
Kristen, we all fear for the safety of our children. One of my favorite quotes, repeated by President Obama at the memorial in Newtown, goes something like "Having a child is like having your heart go walking around outside your body."
ReplyDeleteLove to you, Peter, and his sisters and all our walking hearts.
Kristen, I can't believe it's taken me so long to come across your blog. *slap head*
ReplyDeleteI first heard about the shooting as I was dismissing my class at 3:30 pm that day, standing in my doorway waiting for the final bus call, (and sneaking a peek at Twitter.) One glance at the feed told me something terrible was wrong. I switched to CNN, and then had to swallow my heart and paste a fake smile on my face as I finished dismissing my class.
I cried that whole weekend. I wrote sharp-tongued comments on Facebook, replying to people who said "It wouldn't have happened if they prayed in school" and people who said, "It could've been stopped if the principal had a rifle in her office." I think I lost a few "friends" and ticked off some relatives.
I don't care.
Kiss Peter every day.
I now walk into school every day and know there's one more item on my long list of job descriptions as teacher: defend my students against assailants armed with weapons made for mass destruction -- with my little locked door and a few tables as barricades. And my body.
And I send my 2 daughters off to co-workers who will presumably do the same.
Is there anyone besides me who thinks this is crazy, considering we are the United States of America?