It seems impossible that most mornings, we get up, get dressed, hug and kiss our kids and send them off to school in the care of others.
It seems impossible that they come back home safely, every day.
It seems impossible because less than six months ago, a madman killed an entire classroom of kindergartners. Earlier this week students whose parents hugged them and told them "have a good day" were buried under the rubble of their school after a mile-wide tornado swept through their town. And yesterday two 4th graders did not come home from a field trip to hunt for fossils at a local park when a rain-saturated gravel pile they were on collapsed under them, burying them in seconds.
I pray for those families. I pray for the parents who never got to say good-bye. I cannot imagine their pain.
And yet tomorrow, I will send my children off to school, give them hugs and kisses and tell them to "have a good day."
I take comfort in knowing that most days, all the children who go to school arrive safely back home. I need to remind myself that these horrific events are all jumbled on top of each other in my mind because of their proximity in time and the speed at which today's media cover such events, bringing them closer to home than ever. The fact that these things rarely happen is what makes them such grand news stories, so that they seem more common than they truly are.
I have to tell myself that or I would stay at home, curled up in a ball with my children under my arms, never stepping outside, never answering the door, never letting my children grow up and spread their wings, discover their talents.
It seems impossible, but I will do it. I will take that risk, because our kids deserve the opportunity to experience the world, in all its beauty and terribleness.
And I will appreciate every day that I have with them, and make the most of our time together.