Words Fail Me

I have no words. I want words, but in a time like this they fail me. I want to be able to name this heaviness that resides in my heart. This confusion that plagues my thoughts. This heaviness that weighs down my soul. But I don’t think a word has been thought of to describe this feeling. Because who could have ever nightmared something like this happening.

I want to tell you how my daughter turned eight this weekend. Or something mundane, like how we ran errands. Or even to whine about how I became so sick this weekend that I thought I would have to go to the emergency room. Or something wonderful, like how Elaine came to visit me this weekend and stayed the night for Cady’s party.

But I can’t tell you about these things. Not yet. Because my words are lost in unending sadness and heartbreak. So today, though I may distract myself with work and the sameness of everyday life, I will also mourn. I will fight to keep my tears behind swollen, reddened eyes. I will take deep breaths to stop the sobs. I will say prayers that God ease the suffering of the mothers whose arms are empty and that he watch over my children. I will focus on the little things, because those are the things that pull us through in times like these.


  1. I posted about this today too. I’m anticipating a tough day. I tear up every time I think about greeting my students this morning. I lost it in the shower yesterday thinking about what I would do if it were me, protecting my class while I knew my own two children where somewhere in the building and I couldn’t get to them. This one, hit too close to home on many levels.
    Single Mom in the South recently posted…My Students, Too, Are MineMy Profile

  2. …um. *sigh* Yeah.
    Maggie S. recently posted…The Actual Prayer Going OutMy Profile

  3. One of Mickey’s co-worker’s parents live 5 minutes from the school.
    Maggie S. recently posted…This is What Happens When I Try to Be CleverMy Profile

  4. How does one articulate all that one feels with a tragedy such as this? Yes, the small things, the little moments – those will have to do for now.
    Alison recently posted…The Children Who Will Always Be ChildrenMy Profile

  5. Let the tears flow. Sometimes there aren’t enough words — that’s ok. They’ll come. In with the good out with the bad. Breathe. That’s what I keep telling myself. {{hugs}}

  6. I feel the same way. My heart is so very heavy.
    Shell recently posted…This I KnowMy Profile

  7. I can’t dwell on the sadness. I have to move forward and be strong for my kids that have no idea what has happened.
    Connie Weiss recently posted…Treat Yourself for the New YearMy Profile

  8. It was really hard to send them out the door to school this morning. And I am so thankful for their teachers, I wish they could really know. We need to say it. We need to say “thank you” and I love you and you are worth something. And we need to send as much love out into the world as we can with prayer and loving words.

    Glad I got to hug you this weekend.
    Elaine recently posted…A Change in MeMy Profile

  9. The words are what are hardest for me to find right now. I have the right feelings, I know. I have the right desire to take action, yes. But words? I have said a few but I know more is coming today. My mind is racing. My heart is crying and I want to punch something until the ache in my hands dulls the hurt in my heart and the roaring in my head.
    Arnebya recently posted…Imagination, Reality, and Fear: Bitchy BedfellowsMy Profile

  10. I am so sad. So very sad.

    I am still in a place of disbelief that this is a part of my children’s lives. That I dropped my children off and picked them up today with police officers in the parking lot.

    I just can’t imagine the parents. I can’t think about what they see when they close their eyes.

    You are right there are no words.
    Making It Work Mom recently posted…My NormalMy Profile

  11. I’m mourning with you, my friend.

    Galit Breen recently posted…By MoonlightMy Profile

  12. I didn’t even comment on this on Facebook, because nothing I can say can describe how I feel. I keep trying to push it out of my mind, but then it creeps back in and when it does, I always see Zoe’s face in her kindergarten room, scared and crying for me. And then I imagine *I* am getting the call the school is on lockdown and that I have to go up there to finally learn that my child is gone. And then I cry, and feel empty, and ache, and get sick to my stomach. So many things…. things I don’t want to feel but can’t help feel.
    Jennifer recently posted…The Window and "I’m Cold"My Profile