I have been closely following the tragedy unfolding in Connecticut. Today. I must have cried at least 3 times putting myself in their shoes – especially as a parent.
Words cannot express the level of grief I feel for these children, and the loved ones who wont see their kids ever again. Gone are the opportunities to watch as their kids learn to drive, fall in love, head on to college, or create a family of their own. Friends of the children who were murdered now face the coldest and harshest wake-up call into the real world, breaking the innocence of their youth.
What I wouldn’t give to be down their with everyone else to help them in their suffering – but there is a way to help.
I know at least 1 SDA church who will be holding a prayer service at 6pm this evening in honor of those who’s lives were cut short. While I may not be able to join them physically – I can at least meet them in spirit as I pray for those who have fallen as well. My hope is that you will do the same.
Support for these families is critical at this time, and many will move on:
For the parents however – if I were in them, I wouldn’t want to smile anymore. Its a brief moment of joy spent without the one I love. I hope they don’t feel the same way.
I’m going to school, and the school itself has changed. It’s a fusion of my college and my son’s elementary school. Sy has daycare at “our” school now, and its a woman who looks almost the same as his primary teacher, along with a few teachers aids. After I’ve dropped him off in the classroom I turn around after shutting the door and see a loud mouth gossiper who’s my “friend” in this dream. She’s a short older grey haired woman in a darker grey sweater and black jeans. I say hi real quick and walk off to class, but forget where the class is located (I think) and wander back. There’s a door open, and the gossiping woman and my son’s teacher are talking in a closet and the “friend” starts to lie to her, saying how I’ve been telling people that I’ve been working hard in the classroom with my son; So in an effort to “help,” she tells my son’s teacher that I should have a job in the classroom, and possibly take her job. I stop her nonsense talk right then and there in a state of panic and fury, and interrupt them to clarify I never said any of this. All I said was that I volunteered in the classroom once, but wasn’t very helpful at all. As I said this, I looked at the teacher first, and placed my hand on her shoulder to try and validate my point. She was in the classroom, so she would know; then I look at my “friend” and glare at her. She’s embarrassed as fuck, and the teacher is pissed. The teacher stormed out of the closet leaving me upset and worried.
Later I’m in another classroom and I’m forced to stop what I’m doing. I’m bound and gagged by a bunch of women. They held me down, straw in my mouth, and forced me to over dose on cough medicine to try and kill me. It doesn’t work as planed. I pass out, but still breathing, so they send me to a torture room to have me killed in maple syrup I’m lying on this metal grid with large circles in it, and it starts to raise. Syrup floods the room and starts to boil. I feel uncomfortable and roll over – a little to close to the edge to the point of falling in. Just then I’m rescued by a bunch of other teachers who actually work with the police, figured out “Leanne” – the teacher did it, and am healed back to normal. I give a statement and ask for a follow up report, but it turns out they’re not going to bring her to justice. I was pissed! In the end the police dropped me off outside the school, which is now located somewhere random in the middle of Dover. I realize all that drama made me miss 24 hours of class, but whats worse – where has my son been for the past 24 hours? I freak out and run around looking for him, but to no avail. I walk back to the school to try and find him there but I cant find the school now. I look for a cop to help me but none of them are out driving.
I’m ready to cry. I miss my son.
I wake up