The last few days I’ve been distraught deep within my soul as a parent. Another school shooting. More lives lost. More unnecessary destruction and sadness thrust upon our youth and community yet again. Note: I am exceedingly concerned about gun control, the lack thereof, and mental health. However, this post addresses a mother’s innermost initial thoughts and feelings only.
It’s disheartening I tell my son ‘back in the day’ we felt safe at school. We didn’t worry about school shooters and students struggling with suicide (although I know it existed, but it has increased in this era). We had the occasional ‘tornado drill’ (back East) which is equivalent to an earthquake drill today.
We had no protocol for nor fear of semi-automatic weapons firing at innocent students and staff. The rare bully on the playground who called ‘names’ or ‘swung’ a skinny arm pales in comparison to what kids fear and face today.
Sadly, there’s something about human nature where tragedy impels us to reflect, change, and become more mindful. Perhaps it’s the only good to arise from tragedy. People stop, slow down, think of others, become more sensitive, learn and grow as human beings. Hopefully change for the better.
And while I strive to reflect weekly with such disciplines as the Ignatian Examen from the 1500s*, I often fall short. I get impatient. I fixate on the ‘small stuff‘. I forget what’s important in the moment.
Friday morning’s car ride to school was one such example and one test. Before we got in the car I received a bank alert regarding a new Apple charge. I didn’t recognize it and it wasn’t one of the regular monthly charges to which I’m familiar. 37.93. Small but super random.
I was tempted to deal with it, ask my son what is going on, and obsess bit. Thoughts of a fraud situation or a non-parental approval purchase swirl in my not enough caffeinated brain. Deep breath, Christine.
My mind and heart remind me of the shooting the previous day. When those parents took their children to school, they didn’t know it would be the last day or the last ride together. I keep thinking, did they argue in the car? Did they tell them “I love you’ and maybe get a quick kiss or goodbye hug? Was their last school ride with their child a pleasant one?
Or was there an argument? A typical parental interrogation over an unknown Apple charge? It happens.
I vowed to keep mindful of that. A random 37.93 while in principle is significant, in life, is not.
Thankfully, I exercised enough self-control to let it go. I can deal with this later — at home. It’s not that big of deal. And it wasn’t. It all worked out and this big ‘mystery’ was solved.
I’m glad I didn’t turn that into an argument. I’m glad I focused on positive conversations and told my son I love him and I’d be praying for him. I could tell he had anxiety about going to school after Thursday’s shooting.
On Friday afternoon, I was so excited to pick him up. When we got home, I gave him the biggest hug. He needed it too.
These are sorrowful and often scary times. More and more we must slow down, seek joy and moments of peace in an increasingly non-peaceful world.
Friday evening my son’s school sent a school wide text. It’s simple but sadly appropriate for today: “Hug your family, review safety procedures and if you see something dangerous, report it.”
I’d like to add what my father used to say to me: ‘Don’t sweat the small stuff. And in the end, it’s all small stuff.”
-Christine
*highly recommend, search Ignatius Loyola 1522-1524, Ignatian Examen
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