A quandary: to be featured for a post you wish you’d never, ever ever have to write. But here it is: my post about Newtown, which was the featured post today at Studio30 Plus, a community of writers who know that life only starts to get good when you hit the third decade. So while I am delighted (and flattered) to be the featured post, I wish to god or gods or whatever-powers-that-be, that this post had never been written.
(posted 21 December on Studio 30 Plus):
I hope that on the day the world ended in Newtown, every family had an easy morning. I hope that first-graders happily completed their young independencies: brushing their own teeth, fastening buttons and snaps with determined small fingers, retrieving shoes and socks. I hope families ate breakfast (oatmeal? cereal? pancakes?) together, with no spilled milk or burned toast, that lunchboxes and school projects and maybe a class treat were all gathered up without a mad last-minute rush. I hope the drive to school was filled with singing along to whatever was on the radio, or with conversation about holiday parties or Santa or Hanukkah or going to grandma’s house. I hope none of the parents were running late, stressed out about workholidaysmoneytime; I hope no one snapped hurry up we’re late. I hope siblings didn’t bicker in the backseat, that there were no moans of he’s on my side she pushed me I hate you no I hate YOU.
I hope that kisses were given and hugs received; I hope the morning was remarkable only for its unremarkableness.
I hope the morning was easy and smooth, sliding by like a pearl slipping off a string; I want it to have been beautiful for them, this last morning, the day that no one knew would be the end of the world.