A Mom's Worry

I’ve kinda been putting this off, as to not piss someone off and frankly, it’s a sad subject. A few nights ago I fell asleep for what seemed like an eternity. It was actually only a couple minutes, but the dream made my heart sink. It was after a lengthy pro-gun vs. anti-gun debate that went sour. I have a weak ability to get my point across; maybe they had a weak ability of not getting offended. Either way, it was about 67 posts deep when I finally just ended up deleting the whole thing. Okay, back to my dream.

I dreamed that I was on my way home and took the route going passed my girl’s school. Typically, I wouldn’t do this even though it’s quicker and more efficient but there is this down hill back up the hill part of the road that always makes my Progressive Snapshot thing beep. Drives me batty every time. Anyways, I took this route as I thought it would be recess time and I might get to catch a glimpse of one of my girls in their merry way. Only this time, I didn’t. I turned onto the schools road and seen red lights, blue lights, ambulances, cops, and people running out of the building. I stopped and waited...waited...waited...and waited.

Until, I seen Natylee run out of the building. But where is Neyland? Neyland never came out.

A sound came over the crowd that said, all living have been rescued. In my dream, I fell to my knees, I screamed in agony, people asked me if I needed assistance, I couldn’t figure out how to call Joshua. My fingers didn’t work. All I felt was pain...this miserable, life shattering, indescribable pain. Every thing I knew how to do moments before, I had forgotten. I couldn’t stand, breath, talk...I couldn’t hear or see. I was living in a dark state of sorrow and this pain...oh god, the pain. That realistic, my worst fear kinda pain.

I woke teary eyed and panicky. My dream didn’t show me what had happened, but I knew. You know how dreams do that to you? You know because your effed up brain concocted this terrible vivid story that scares the ever loving shit out of you and then presents it to you at your most relaxed state. Needless to say, I didn’t sleep anymore that night. Those visions played again, and again, and again. And my heart shriveled up and kinda died a little every time. Just writing this brought me back to the feelings I felt. I think I felt a fraction of the grief the parent’s of those Sandy Hooks’ babies felt. How did those parent’s not die right then and there of heartbreak? The kind of strength they must have had.

When the shooting in Newtown happened, it scared me. Nowadays, when I am able to catch the door open at the school and not have to buzz in, I freak out. What if I were THE intruder? I just got in and nobody buzzed me. I know that I wouldn’t do anything, but someone else might...has...multiple times...shot up a school. Which makes me doubt this measly system to begin with. I wonder about how close the damn playground is to the road. Sure, the fence protects them from being ran over, but what if someone wanted to shoot at them? Then what? Then what? What happens then? We’ve had drive by shootings several times this year in our own community.

When the shooting in Aurora happened, a couple weeks later I took Nyk to see The Hobbit. I stared at the exit doors. I played out my escape plan, what I would do to protect my son if some lunatic decided today would be a good day to fire rounds into an empty viewing of The Hobbit. I can’t remember anything about that movie, because I was so fixated on being so terrified. I still don’t like movie theaters, I don’t like it when my kids go with their grandparents either. It’s a paranoia free-for-all. Theaters have been ruined by James Holmes, he didn’t just interfere in his victim’s and their families lives, I truly think he effed up millions of people’s heads. Please don’t confuse my saying that, that I too am a victim of The Dark Night shooting. I am not.

Look...I’m not wanting to take anyone’s guns who are stable enough to have them. I’m not saying that at all. So, please don’t read into this that way. I don’t care what you have. I do care that children are accidentally dying because their parents can’t put their guns up, and then face absolutely NO charges. I do care that kids are shooting other kids because the victim wouldn’t let the shooter pet her dog (happened in the next county over). I do care that you can go to Walmart (or on Craigslist) and walk out with an assault rifle...and you better hurry because you can save $71 on them this week only! I do care that the clinically mentally unstable racist I use to live by has a small arsenal LEGALLY. I do care that cops pointed LOADED guns at me and my infant because they thought I was a previous tenet that was on the run. I am not anti-gun at all. I am anti-anyone-can-get-one. I am anti-using-them-without-thinking.

It all just makes me feel guilt for sending my kids to school with them thinking I am mad. Because, what if someone shoots them today? I worry getting out of my car and someone is creeping by. What if they are going to do a drive by right now, how am I going to protect all FOUR of my kids? I worry every time I drop my kids off at a friends. What if they have a gun and it isn’t locked up? I worry that the security guy at my husband’s work will miss something, and someone will get mad about a payment and blow my husband’s head off. I’m going to have wrinkles in the shape of guns because this is what I am always fretting about.

I don’t know y’all, I’m just having a real hard time believing the whole “good guy with a gun will take down the bad guy with the gun” scenario. It seems to me that a lot of the “good guys” are shooting people now (Like the guy who shot up Planned Parenthood). 3%...that’s how many shootings are stopped by an armed bystander. 3%! Most shootings end with police or suicide. The intruder just dies, not having to deal with the heartache and darkness of their actions. Such cowards!

Maybe, as a mother I think too much about what could happen. Maybe, as a parent I wish there was more I could do to protect them. I’ve taught them gun safety. What not to do. I’ve showed them how to duck, hid, cover their heads, roll a dead body on top of them...Yeah! I taught my 9 year old that, too look dead. I told her to look dead! She’s 9. The school has drills teaching kids how to not get hit when a bad guy decides to spray their school with bullets. We have bullet proof blankets! There is so much wrong with this. Alas, most of us turn a blind eye. It can’t happen to us. It wont happen to us. I bet every parent in Newtown thought that too. Well, we all seen how that worked out for those children and their families.

*The End*

If for any reason this upsets you. It shouldn’t. I know a lot of people hear “gun-safety” and turns it into “banning guns”. Just don’t. Nobody wants your stupid freakin’ guns, okay? I’ve worked on this for a bit trying to word it to appease everyone and their opinions. I can’t please you all. Thus, read with a slight open-mind, or unfriend me. It’s really quite simple.