As a news junkie, CNN is my favorite form of reality T.V. Now, after the loss of Nora, it has been more heart wrenching than entertaining. Yesterday was especially one of those days. As I was struggling to pick out an outfit and leave on time for work, I heard a news reporter interview a victim of the devastating Oklahoma Tornado as I walked by the television perched on my dresser.
This was no ordinary victim. She was a mother with a missing child somewhere in the rubble of what once was the city of Moore, Oklahoma. My heart was breaking for this woman and all the victims of the devastation the storm left behind. But, this woman, with fear in her voice and pain in her face was where my empathy went.
My heart was afraid for this woman as her sad future flashed before my eyes. I could see where her life was headed, as a mother with a dead child, because I, too, know the sorrow of this fate. I did not want the unbearable pain I experience daily to become this woman's destiny, but it looked as if it would soon be hers.
She stood there on the television with terror radiating from her body as she trembled and shook. As I watched her, I could hear in her voice a desperate need to cling to a rope of hope with tethered strings. I pray that her hopeful wish of finding her child alive comes true.
I hope healing finds all of those devastated by the wicked forces of nature. I, too, know her wrath. She took my child unexpectedly and without warning. I know the pain in that. For now, all I can do is let the light in my heart shine out to this mother and all the parents with children that died from the storm and to those whose children are still missing. I hope my fate of the loss of a child does not become theirs.
Needless to say, I am no longer a news junkie. The lens of suffering the T.V. brings into my world is at times too much for me to bare. So in our house, the T.V. will be off tonight. Nick and I will hold each other a little tighter and maybe dance in the kitchen again as we did last night, because it's these simple moments of joy and human connection that life is really about.
This was no ordinary victim. She was a mother with a missing child somewhere in the rubble of what once was the city of Moore, Oklahoma. My heart was breaking for this woman and all the victims of the devastation the storm left behind. But, this woman, with fear in her voice and pain in her face was where my empathy went.
My heart was afraid for this woman as her sad future flashed before my eyes. I could see where her life was headed, as a mother with a dead child, because I, too, know the sorrow of this fate. I did not want the unbearable pain I experience daily to become this woman's destiny, but it looked as if it would soon be hers.
She stood there on the television with terror radiating from her body as she trembled and shook. As I watched her, I could hear in her voice a desperate need to cling to a rope of hope with tethered strings. I pray that her hopeful wish of finding her child alive comes true.
I hope healing finds all of those devastated by the wicked forces of nature. I, too, know her wrath. She took my child unexpectedly and without warning. I know the pain in that. For now, all I can do is let the light in my heart shine out to this mother and all the parents with children that died from the storm and to those whose children are still missing. I hope my fate of the loss of a child does not become theirs.
Needless to say, I am no longer a news junkie. The lens of suffering the T.V. brings into my world is at times too much for me to bare. So in our house, the T.V. will be off tonight. Nick and I will hold each other a little tighter and maybe dance in the kitchen again as we did last night, because it's these simple moments of joy and human connection that life is really about.
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