Newtown

As a Navy wife of almost 20 years, I have lived all over the world.  With each move, each new neighborhood and job comes the standard question, "where are you from?"  Depending on the distance from home my answer is usually "oh a small town in Connecticut, not far from Danbury or Hartford."  If I'm very far away like Hawaii or Japan, I usually have to say "just outside of New York City."  Not many folks have heard of Newtown, Connecticut.

I suspect that has forever changed.  The once quiet little New England town has for a time become the geographic center of a stunned nation.  Now it is known, but for all the wrong reasons.  

You are seeing the photos of my town, I wish you could see my memories.  This is where I took my first step, rode my first bike, danced in my first recital, acted in my first play, learned to drive, kissed a boy, fell in love for the first time and had my first heartbreak.  Newtown is where I learned to ice-skate, hung out with my friends and made plans for what would be the rest of my life.  A life that has taken some strength and courage to live.  Strength and courage that came from my upbringing.  My parents, friends, neighbors, teachers and mentors - all Newtowners.  

Like everyone, I am deeply saddened by this tragic event, but I have to find a way to put it aside and make all those things that seemed important last Thursday seem important again.  Time to turn off the TV and get on with it but it's hard. It's hard because these last few days have called me home and made me a small child again.  A child who followed the footsteps of the Jolly Green Giant up the driveway to her Sandy Hook Elementary school fair.  A child who pushed the milk cart down those very hallways.  A child who played on that playground and climbed on firetrucks at that station.  I loved being that child.

Time to learn how to close my eyes again.  I have the luxury of distance that you don't.  You are facing an unspeakably tough few weeks.  You will be there when the cameras are gone.  You will be there next year on December 14th, lighting candles, laying wreaths and remembering.  You have to send your children back to school.  You have to make this ok.  I can only pray for your strength.  I can take heart in knowing what kind of people you are and that you can and will continue to make Newtown a wonderful place to live and raise your children.  I can tell you I love you and I'm so very, very sorry.