I had a huge post planned. It went into great detail about my wonderful 10 days of with my two boys, the time I spent with my family and just the general indulgence of it all. I had a truly fabulous time, turning 30 was great.
I did the half marathon just like I knew I would. With my trusty running buddy Karen beside me, we ran through ditches, over tree trunks, darted round bushes and brambles and slid down hills on our bums. It was an excellent achievement for us both.
I started writing this post the day after my half marathon, I’d been in a complete daze, yet had somehow managed to complete a full grocery shop at Tesco. The post sat unfinished for a week with me thinking that I’d get round to it soon.. “before the end of May” I kept telling myself.
Then horrible things started happening and I didn’t want to write.
Chris Cornell died.
I wasn’t his biggest fan, infact he’d probably been at his most famous before I even hit secondary school, but hearing that he died really got me, right in the pit of my stomach.
I remember having a similar feeling after reading a book about River Phoenix, I wished I had been older when he was around, almost like you can’t justify liking the person if you weren’t there when they were.
This morning, whilst I was trying to simultaneously get Leo to eat his rice crispies and also sort out our bills account I heard Mike simply say “Oh no… Manchester”. I didn’t even need to ask, I knew something had happened.
I’ve spent most of my day checking my phone whilst at work. Checking the news sites, Twitter and Facebook for updates but not really getting any useful information, just people sharing stuff.
Small children died. Kids. This simply is not on. It’s so difficult when people are saying “keep your head up, don’t let them win”, it looks like they are winning to me, and I’m scared.
I know things like this are happening regularly in other countries, especially in Syria. I feel the sadness when I see those poor children who have lost parents and who are injured or killed. It truly is horrible. We can’t separate our children from their children, we all share this world.
Leo doesn’t understand yet, so I don’t need to worry about explaining it to him. I worry though, I do. Things feel like they are getting worse. Is this going to be normal for Leo and his generation? Is mass murder something he’s going to be used to?
I’m sad, and I don’t know how to be un-sad. It feels wrong to be happy.
I went into Leo’s room tonight and I kissed him on the forehead and brushed his hair away from his eyes. I let my lips stay on his skin for a bit longer as he lay there completely innocent and unaware.
And now I just don’t know what to do.