I wasn’t going to publish the names…there were so many. Then I decide that they deserved to be remembered, indeed honored. Each of then was young, at the beginning of this sojourn. Careers and school waiting for each of them. The name I won’t say is the perpetrators because I don’t want to encourage those unstable minds who commit crimes so history will remember them. I am sorry that their families and friends are experiencing this overwhelming grief and sorrow. Though a widow, I can only express a tiny bit of the hell you must be suffering. I am sorry.
For those on the fence about LGBT members of society, each of these people were in school or working. Let us remember the injured also. There is a large list of people who need your healing prayers. Their doctors need prayers for steady hands, wise decisions, and an angel on their shoulder. It will take the loving hearts of many people to get the injured up and about. They may face some discrimination. Pray that people will look at them and just see an injured human being. For their families and friends, I pray for you that you will have the strength to give them all the care they will need. May people remember that you will need care also. May you be able, in time, to forgive the shooter and the NRA.
I have been thinking a lot actually I am in the process of having some tests done and it has given me blank blocks of time which I can mentally write on and sing on and dance on. I was thinking that so many of my age respond to music unlike other ages. My heart and soul respond and have done since I was thirteen. I remember all of those early songs. Listening to a white plastic radio in my room–just me and my celestial friends the stars. Listening to” Puff the Magic Dragon”, and” I’ts My Party ” in the same way teens listen to music now. I have a grandson who is a teen and a musician to boot. Music , in my thinking has been a cord that binds. I was the notes and the spaces between the notes that made the music. It was the early 60″s and I didn’t care about anyone’s color or where they lived. I cared about the music. It would slip into my soul and has remained for fifty some years.
We can teach our children a lot more by what we do than what we say. Saying is a clue that hypocrisy is coming next. The parents who live what they believe, who go slow and steady through this life and teach children how to manage their emotions, answer questions about other people, teach acceptance and not hatred, and to love “all the others.” are the ones who succeed in this thing called “Parenting”. Whether it is the Mother’s Day coming quickly or whether it is June and Father’s day, it needs to be real.
As the beautiful Sunday afternoon shines and spreads its fragrance on the gentle breezes; we have time to stop the idea of hatred. Our actions have taught others, teach them to love “others” and not just those who look like us, or think like us. There is time to try to bring an end to violence and inequality, it is your chance to put on the old music, like “House at Pooh Corner.” and sing along and get them moving. Parent or grandparent we need to try to shake off the mantle of oppression and injustice. Spit hypocrisy out of your mouths, never to allow its entrance again. Teach your children well. No bullying, no laughing at those who are unfortunate, teach them to listen to what you do and make sure you say what Divinity would do if he/she/it were to walk our highways and byways today. Would you notice this Divine presence? What would you do or say? What would the little ones do or say?