I danced with my son this morning.
I laughed this morning.
I felt guilty for my joy,
wondering how many beautiful souls were laughing when the first bullet struck home.
I hugged my child this morning.
I wept for all the mothers who will never have that chance again.
I kissed my husband goodbye this morning, and felt my heart swell at the thought of all the lovers lost. What if it were him?
I made a silent promise to 50 strangers today. That they would be remembered. That they would live on in my daily thoughts. That I would take action to try to save others. That I wouldn't let their deaths be a source of anger or hatred. That I would never be invisible for the sake of convenience. That I would carry on in their honor.
I laughed this morning. I felt the guilt of my continuance. I felt shame at my own joy.
I danced with my son this morning.
