Friday, October 2, 2015

ISN'T IT TIME?

If you could see me now you would observe tense fingers pounding the keyboard in outraged indignation, clenched teeth, a tight jaw, and a heavy heart.You might just see a few tears shed that temporarily fog my vision and make my screen invisible.

I woke up this morning thinking about all the TLC that goes into raising a child—all the stages, through the ages, and the worries about spiking fevers, croupy coughs, scary moments, and the like. I thought about all of the first day of school times filled with excitement and wonder—particularly the wonder of how my wonderful child will do? And whether the teacher or teachers will be good?

The love of a parent is unlike any other and lasts a lifetime and beyond. At least, most of the time.

And then I thought about the phone call or TV news bulletin that comes screeching at some parents screaming "There's been a shooting at______________." And I got in touch with their panicked hearts  racing madly into their throats, pounding powerfully out of their bodies, while they raced madly to the school, fair grounds or wherever. Struggling as they could  to stay optimistic, but realizing that no one yet knows for sure.

Then I imagined the terrified parents waiting breathlessly to see who gets off the bus or who comes out of the school, or from hiding, or wherever and the shooting pains of anguish for those parents whose children didn't make it through, and whose very worst fears have been realized because of another senseless killing spree by a mad man—a very mad man—who takes innocent lives as their revenge for their less than innocent life. An unfair eye from a blind eye.

Gone in a flash are all the dreams and the hopes for the son or daughter of very real parents who will be haunted for life by their loss. It is, by all measures, unfathomable and yet we had had 15 such nightmares in the past many years.

And these occur in small towns, and in hallowed halls of worship, movie theaters, schools and other sacred places that by all reason need to be safe.

Isn't it time we paid attention to the terrorists that lurk within our borders as we do to those who lurk outside of them? Isn't it time we did something—many somethings—so that more parents don't suffer such losses, especially since next time the grieving parent could be US! YOU! Isn't it TIME???

Trust me, it is TIME! Overtime.

Bye for Now,

Bill

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