I can’t watch the news

by humanmama on September 25, 2012

I can’t watch the news. I’ve blogged about it before. I just can’t. It’s like a terrible horror movie half the time, only it’s real, and sometimes kids are actually suffering.

I accidentally watched Good Morning America a few months ago and I saw a story about how a mom was arrested and admitted to giving her 6-year-old an overdose of medication. And his body was FOUND abandoned on a stretch of road somewhere. And I’ll be thinking about that all night long. I’ll have to pray, “please, be with that little boy and tell him it’s okay.” And then I’ll sleep, but in the morning, I’ll wake up thinking about him.

When Helena was about 6 months old there was a little girl outside of Pittsburgh who was also killed, by a parent. She died of exposure in the middle of the night wearing only a sweater. She was assaulted by her father, and then so he could sleep he left her in a park. It was eight degrees that night, and she wandered around until she died.

She was 23 months old.

I never can get her out of my head.

Each time I think of those children who have suffered, I hug my kids. I remember to be more patient. I remember to make a will (we did, after Lilly was born) so that I don’t send them away to who knows where if something happens to me and Carpenter. I remember to try to remember that this time is so fleeting and goes so fast that even though sometimes it feels like you want to rip your hair out, it’s only because the goodness and the badness are concentrated, like apple juice, together so thickly that it threatens to tear your heart out. And one day they’ll be diluted, more spread out, until you don’t even remember tasting those bad times, you’ll just yearn for the good times again. And you won’t even remember how bad the bad times were. You’ll only remember that there was once a time you were happiest, and it was when your kids were young.

So I pray too for those parents. And I hope that somewhere those children can feel that in this world someone is learning from their lives, their parent’s mistakes, their stories. Someone still remembers them.

 

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{ 2 comments… read them below or add one }

Shell September 25, 2012 at 9:46 am

I remember that story about the little girl being found in just her sweater. Gives me the chills.
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aj September 25, 2012 at 11:02 am

So scary. And so makes me want to adopt all children. And invent a time machine. And many other impossible thoughts.

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