She will hop off the bus in an hour. She will look up toward our balcony, to where I am usually perched, expecting to wave at me. But I won’t be there.
I will be within arms length, waiting to squeeze her and hold her close.
She is in kindergarten. She doesn’t understand much of the way of the world. She won’t know why her Mama will have tears in her eyes, or why she won’t let go.
But I will know.
I will know how lucky I am to be having my child come home today. How lucky I am to not receive a text message or a phone call or to be ushered into a fire hall to hear the news that every parent dreads to hear.
Children are innocents. They don’t deserve this. They don’t deserve to witness this, to experience this.
Whatever the motive, keep others out of it.
I will hold her close tonight. More than I do so every night. Hopefully she will know nothing of these events. Ever.
I’m not very religious, but I will think of those affected, and send them positive and healing thoughts, that they will make it through this tragedy.