Where were you?

When I was a kid I remember adults talking about the assassination of JFK, and how they could each recall exactly where they were, or some strange detail that stood out in their minds about the day. I recall thinking something along the lines of "Wow, I'm glad I don't have anything like that which I could remember exactly where I was etc.

I guess it just takes time alas. And now I have several such events. But one in particular is very hard for me still.

It's been ten years today. I was sitting in the Target parking lot, a young mother about to go look at bicycles so I could enjoy the approaching Colorado summers when the radio announced that there had been shots fired at a Littleton High School. Chills raced down my spine as I live in Littleton, and then confusion when they said Columbine, which is actually in the Jefferson County School District, not in Littleton Proper (unincorporated but served by Littleton Post Offices).

Still, the school is about 5 miles from my house. I went home instead of shopping. I sat on my couch and watched as teenagers raced out, their arms on their heads. I cried, and cried and cried because I had a 2 year old and a 4 year old and I didn't want them to ever, ever face anything like this...and how could it happen here?

My whole universe spun as the local anchor, Adele Arakawa stood at the site, her local coverage being broadcast on cable networks in a surreal wall to wall coverage of all Colorado horror, commercial free. I wept further when Bertha Lynn, another local channel's anchor was rendered absolutely speechless when Patrick Ireland flung himself out of the library window. I couldn't believe my eyes as the medics worked on a teenager, shot outside and the horror at hearing just how many bodies were being rushed to area hospitals, and I thought about those doctors and how they'd spent so much of their lives preparing to save one of these kids. I spent hours on the phone with my mom and my sister, relatives who called to make sure I was okay.

That day I didn't know any of the victims personally, but I couldn't sleep for a week as I read the accounts in the paper and wished somehow, someway those experiences could be reversed. The librarian's account and her panicked 911 call, the boy who was spared, the principal, the teachers. As a young mom it was painful to imagine; as a parent of teenagers I have even more empathy for the parents that day.

I know now that those kids were all intertwined into my world and community. I have friends who are related, or know the victims, and the killers. I know people who were there that have grown and become parents and that I now call friends. I have friends who were at the nearby mall and comforted panicked and horrified teenagers, handing out her cell phone for them to call their parents. I hurt for them, and I hurt for Littleton, which for a long time, the word meant Columbine, and I want to hug my kids harder, and live better. I'm grateful for news anchors, medics, teachers, parents, bus drivers and friends.

I know it's all old hat now, Columbine is a word in a textbook to describe some stupid sociology phenomenon. Now it happens again and again, and they consult the principal from Columbine, or re-work SWAT team responses. But here, where it happened we will think about those teenagers and teachers today, the good and bad, those who lived and those who died and pray that it never happens again to anyone.

I know that life goes on, my two year old is now 12, my 4 year old 14 and on the cusp of high school herself and they have a brother who was not even born when it went down. I told them once more, that if anyone shows up with a gun...get out of the way. I try not to visualize this, they are all, just as all children are, so amazing and talented. The world would be so lacking without them, and is still missing great things from those beautiful children who died that day.

I think about Columbine today, and many other days, though it has been less in recent years for me, but I also think about the flower, the Columbine. It is Colorado's state flower and one of the most beautiful growing things in our State. It appears a simple little mountain flower, delicate, graceful, yet strong enough to endure high altitude, rocky soil and harsh conditions. How amazing is it that our state adopted it as their official flower in April, when all of this happened, and that the symbol of this day, the very word Columbine is personified in a flower that was named after the bird of peace?

The wounds run deep, but the flower can still reach for the sun. Those who lived through it have brought much comfort to others, and for those who died, may they rest in peace, always remembered, never forgotten. If you've read this thank you for being my friend. Thank you for being alive, and thank you for just being you. May today be filled with peace for all. *hugs*