Since the news of the nz massacres I’ve been so overwhelmed with sadness I haven’t been able to sleep. Not that I’ve actually ever slept well for the last 5 years, but it’s adding much to the existing anxiety. After hearing the news yesterday I obsessively Googled every 20 mins to an hour to check the death tolls… It happens every single time such a news comes forth really. Each and every time it breaks my heart in ways I cannot process nor explain… so I thought maybe writing it down could help me cope.
And seeing how no one really reads this page it seems like the right place to find my bearings…
I feel guilty for feeling any pain at all because I’m not directly affected. It’s almost as if I have no right to grieve or mourn for the loss of these lives because I didn’t even know them. I read letters and comments fiercely spun into the world wide web with cries of grief, of pain, of justice and it shatters me further. Then I feel guilty again, because I imagine the deep and horrible suffering the families/ loved ones must be feeling and how dare anyone even thinks they know what pain is… I’m at a lost for words. I don’t make sense.
I speak vaguely about it to my husband and I begin to tear up. My voice begins to crack and we both stop. He takes my hand and we silently agree he understands and I love him for it.
As I watch my babies sleep… I cry some more. Mama is so heartbroken… About this world we live in. The endless wars from past to present. The endless massacres. I learnt about the genocide of the Tutsi people in Rwanda from Instagram and I cried from every single post. I read about women in DV relationships from my various mums groups and even that hurts my head. I feel this world doesn’t deserve anymore children… Again, I feel guilty that I brought my own children into this world. Of course I don’t regret it. Never. But I’d be lying if I said it didn’t concern me how bleak their future looks. This planet is spoiling and choking itself by the minute, I mean, how much longer do we really have before it shits itself?
But in all my dark and morbid thoughts I also have this naive hope. That our children will be braver than us. That they will put actions to their words and do what we are too comfortable and cowardly to do. I look at children in their elements and they are so so so much braver than us grownups. If only us adults have the fearlessness of a toddler.
My dearest Bosh and Kris. And little Moey. I pray for this world to be a better place by the time you’re old enough to understand it. I pray that you will have the courage to stand up for all that matters to you. I pray that if you are ever scared, that you will rise up and face those fears. I pray that all your hearts and powers combined will infect the world with so much love that your children and children’s children won’t even understand the concept of hate. The same way you will never understand how we used to time radio plays so that we could record music to a cassette. The same way I will never understand how a phonograph could play music. I pray that your generation will find the ctl-alt-delete solution to hate. If all else fails, I pray that you will feel the depth that love is, and be charitable with it. Spread love.