Wednesday, December 19, 2012

Day 19: Do They Know It's Christmas?

Before I even started writing this, Jenn over at Something Clever 2.0 posted about the Newtown tragedy.  She sums it up a lot better than I do, so go and read it, but come on back to read mine.

I'm taking a break from humor today and I know I am almost a week late on the tragedy that happened in Newtown, Connecticut but it's taken me a while to compile my thoughts.

I am not going to stand on a soapbox about gun control, mental illness or school security.

I am not going to spew political beliefs and agendas.

I am not going to participate in any of the social media memorial ideas that are out there.

I am not going to pretend that I know what the families, students and teachers are going through.

I am not going to talk about the shooter and make excuses for him.

What I am going to do is talk about how I feel.  No matter how you cut it, this was a tragedy, an uncalled for, senseless tragedy.  The world lost 20 innocent children for no reason.  What's worse is that their families lost them at Christmas time.

I could never imagine losing one of my sons.  I've tried.  In the past few days I have wondered what the parents are going through and I've tried to imagine situations if something happened to one of them and I can't.  My brain shuts down when I try.  It refuses to let me feel what those parents are going through.

I attended a candle light vigil last night in the town over from me.  This is the first time I have attended any sort of church service on freewill.  I went there in the rain and joined over a hundred other people who held vigil for children and adults whom we have never met and probably would have never met.  This renewed some of my faith in humanity.  I was amazed as I looked through tear drops at the people who gathered.

While standing there in the cold freezing rain, I thought.  I thought about my kids.  Daniel, Benjamin and Tristan.  I thought about how much they mean to me.  I thought about the day each of them came into this world and how they've grow so much in such a short period of time.  Then I thought about this coming Thursday.

This Thursday we are having our Cub Scout Holiday Party.  As you know I am the Cubmaster for the Pack in town and I have the responsibility to help 36 young boys grow up.  Two of the victims were Tiger Cubs in Pack 170.  Wow, not only do I have to worry about my boys but I have 34 surrogate sons that I could never imagine having to go to a memorial service for.  I am not going to talk about it during my Cubmaster Minute, however I will have one single candle burning and do a moment of silence.

In the past few days I have been barraged with emails and Facebook messages asking me to "join" this group and "like" that page.  I understand everyone wants to help out but I have made my choice.  I will not join your "ban all guns" group or like the "mental illness kills" page.  I am helping out in my own way:

I am asking my Cub Scout Pack to donate new or gently loved stuffed animals to the Someone Who Loves You Project.  This project is simple and started in my town by a couple of great young ladies.

I am also asking Scouting families and Friends of Scouting to give support to Pack 170 who is part of the Connecticut Yankee Council.

Despite of these two things I am doing, I can't bring the kids back.  You can't bring the kids back.  No one can bring the kids back.  The best thing anyone can do, regardless of religion or belief is to give comfort to the families, students and teachers. Giving comfort could be as simple as holding a moment of silence while you sit in your car.  A little comfort goes a long way.

It makes me wonder, the parents who lost their children, Do They Know It's Christmas?

This is a somber moment for everyone, even Gonads who is holding a vigil for them right now.

Dude Write
I'm submitting this post to Dude Write this week, where the Dude Bloggers are honoring the victims of Sandy Hook.  Please go and read the other blogs and, well you know the rest.


  1. That's awesome; we definitely have some "snuggle friends" that could help.

  2. This makes me feel guilty. The day after the shooting I posted something about it. I tried to express how the parents of those children must feel, in a poem. But as you said, I have no fucking clue what they are going through. The thought of losing my own children made me cry and so I thought I could put myself in their shoes.

    I got it all wrong man! Thanks for bringing me back down to reality. The only right thing to do is to pray for comfort of the victims and their families.

  3. I have tears in my eyes from reading this. Beautifully written Kevin.

  4. Kevin - I couldn't agree with you more! I cannot even begin to fathom the pain those poor families are feeling. Not only will Christmas never be the same, but LIFE will never be the same for them.

  5. Nothing to say. I just wanted you to know I read this.

  6. A genuine, authentic account of your reaction to a senseless massacre of the young. Yes, I've been stroking my own kids more intensely over the last few days (even though they are 18 and 22 years old!).

  7. I get irritated when I see people using tragedies like this as an example of why "such and such" needs to happen a different way. It's infuriating—we don't need to turn tragedy into a pedestal.

  8. Great words Kevin. I can't think of my kids dying either.


  9. You are a good man, Kevin. I don't care what the Trophy says about you. :) Thanks for sharing this touching tribute.