A Heavy Heart


[2008 - "lookalike" day. us girls, looking like our principal]

 

I don’t want to do this right now. And I didn’t feel like doing it over the weekend either – certainly not on Friday.

Posting the Christmas DIY I’ve been super antsy to tell you about… or even  a few of my favorite last minute holiday treats just doesn’t matter.

My heart is heavy.

I know your’s is too.

My fingers are stuck on the keyboard.

Numb.

2 minutes just passed.

Words are replaced with tears.

You see, before I was mother, I was a teacher. (K for a year and 1st for four).

Hearing the news on Friday literally brought me to my knees. My mind raced back to the 4 foot by 4 foot bathroom in my 1st grade classroom. All 22 of us were crammed in there – knees touching, dead silent. I had snagged my cell phone and a few picture books, just in case we needed to be distracted. I wasn’t sure how long we’d have to be in there. We were in lock-down. Normally this was just standard protocol; a drill we did at least once a quarter. The administration would say, “Lock down drill” and we’d put procedures into place: lock our doors, cover the windows, huddle in a corner, and wait for the cue that it was over.

But this time, there was no “drill” attached to the “lock down”. My instincts kicked in… get them to the safest place possible. That was behind a locked door within our classroom. The tiny bathroom.

Our admin had accidentally forgotten to say, “drill.” The entire school thought we were experiencing the real thing.

It was one of the most terrifying experiences. And yet, for some reason, I had a surge of courage and an overwhelming sense of peace being together as a class. We loved each other.

My thoughts then shifted from that day in my classroom to another day…

The day I became a mother.

Both experiences collided together. My heart literally seemed to split down the middle and shatter in different directions.

I was experiencing and envisioning both sides of this horrifying day. The side of the teacher coupled with the side of a mother.

Both of whom love little children.

Even in this moment, it’s nearly impossible to suppress the oncoming wave of emotion.

I just want to say I’m so very sorry. Sorry to the parents, to the brothers and sisters, the teachers, the classmates, the community. All those who are longing for their little loved ones.

My heart hurts with you.

My heart hurts for all the rest of us too. Those who wish they could do something to somehow make it better.  And those who are discouraged to raise children in this ever changing world.

All we can do is our best: to live each day worthy as our last, to teach our children the difference between right and wrong, to mend broken relationships, to help those around us in need.

And ultimately, to leave the path behind us better than before we traveled it.

I know love can heal all wounds.

My prayers are with you all.

23 Responses to A Heavy Heart

  • Sarah R says:

    Thank you! Thank you for all you did as a teacher to protect those students and i sure hope when my son is old enough for school his teachers do the same for him. I am in tears and heart broken while reading your words.. and I totally agree with all you’ve said! Thank you again!


  • Jess Thomson says:

    Hi Missy,
    I have actually been thinking of you over here in Australia as we have been hearing of this dreadful news, knowing that you were a teacher of young children.
    For such an act of evil to occur at all, let alone in a place as sacred as an elementary school, is still too much for me to comprehend.
    Please know that our hearts ache for you all, and we pray that with time, the pain of this tragedy will ease.
    While I don’t think I will ever be able to understand why these beautiful young children were taken, I take from this a lesson to hold my son extra tight, and be truly grateful for every second I have with him.
    Much love,
    Jess x


  • linsey says:

    I definately agree with you.. its just too sad to try to think about.. i hate that things like this happen :( I have always loved children but it seems so daunting to have one lately.. the world is a scary place.. and i feel like i would be terrified 24/7 if i had a little one.. :(


  • Steph says:

    So sad. I have daughter in second grade, seven years old, this hit close to home. As a parent this is your worst fear. My heart is broken for all involved. How scary that must of been for you and now to relive it, too much. <3


  • Taren says:

    So absolutely tragic for this to happen at all, but especially in an elementary school. So full of innocence and hearts that still think everyone is good. My prayers are and have been going up for these children and their families. Beautifully said, Missy.


  • Tricia says:

    I think every teacher past or present must have had similar thoughts. My mind raced back to the day we had an actual lock down as well, even though at the time I knew that the circumstance wasn’t as dangerous. I even hated the drill days and would go home having nightmares that my worst fear would come true.


  • Amy says:

    I am a teacher too, first grade for 10 years. Such a heavy heart. As I went out to meet and gather for the holiday I just wanted to deny I was a teacher it’s too much to bare. Haven’t been touched like this by such a tragedy in a while. Love your post, thanks


  • Jennifer says:

    Missy, thank you for saying what many of us feel and stopping everything to just ‘be’…. feel, weep, be grateful. While Christmas and clothes and meals and organization and beauty are fun and are wonderful hobbies and often good distractions , sometimes – but not often enough – life requires us to stop what we are doing and just be. Thank you for saying it aloud. Jennifer


  • Brooke says:

    You have an amazing gift of putting what’s in your heart into words. As a mother myself, my heart is broken for all of those who lost their little ones. My prayers are with everyone touched by this tragedy. Thank you for your sweet post.


  • Bianca says:

    Beautifully said. As a mom my heart aches for my son and the world he will have to face in the coming years. I can only pray that God continues to bless him with love and light in his heart and that his innocence not be taken too soon like the rest of the tiny survivors from Sandy Hook. Thoughts and prayers to all those affected throughout the country. May God bless us all with peace in our hearts and souls.

    Sleep in heavenly peace sweet angels <3


  • April says:

    Missy, thank you for sharing your thoughts. As a former educational worker and the mother of a teenager, I had trouble putting my daughter on the bus this morning, allowing her to walk into public school seemed impossible. But I did it and I prayed.
    My heart is broken and heavy for those suffering loss and for the things our children have yet to face.
    But I thank God that there are angels such as those in CT and yourself, who have and would give of themselves to protect our children if they needed to!


  • ambyr sutherland says:

    I recently found pink pistachio through pinterest and have been exploring through all of the fun, girly, and helpful post. I think its so healing to hear all of these post regarding this unthinkable horror that took place in our back yards. I must say that as a mother of one sweet little boy (a first grader at a similiar type school) I have been in complete shock and felt my protective instincts go into over drive! My husband who broke the news to me and was in tears said he wanted me to now home-school our son. What type of world do we live in and how has this happened? My heart is truly shattered for these parents and I simply can NOT fathom the degree of pain or anger. My prayers are for them and that they may find peace and be blessed beyond imagination from a loving and just God. He hurts over this more than we do. Well thank you for letting me express my feelings and thankyou for giving us a little world called pink pistachio to escape to where life is happy, safe, and pretty:). God bless all of you!


  • thank you for this perspective. My heart is still heavy and I’m sure it will be for months, maybe even years to come. I can’t begin to say I understand how anyone in this situation feels, but thank you for the side from a teacher and mother’s perspective.

    I hate that you had to go through those drills with your little school children, but thankful that training is happening daily. My heart aches for this but I’m thankful in this ever changing world, we have those prepared to protect our most precious resource, our future, our children.

    Thank you for all you did as a teacher and now as a mother. ox


  • Sarah says:

    I just discovered your awesome blogs last night and have been addicted for the last 12 hours or so! I stumbled upon this post and realized why we would get along so well other than you being able to teach me how to finally do my hair and makeup, I am a former teacher as well. I taught third grade in a small town for four years. I resigned this past May after marrying a man who is a soldier. He was relocated and I went with him. I understand how you must have been feeling when you heard about what happened as well. I couldn’t sleep for two days, constantly thinking what if those had been my babies that day? I am so sorry for the events of that day but am so grateful that there are individuals who teach and love kids just like their own.


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