"CAN I HAVE MORE MILK, PLEASE, THIS CARTON IS EMPTY!"
"Oh, yeah. Sorry. I'm just... this week has been... there was just... last night... I was up... I'm... my brain... it's just... I don't know what to say, you guys. I'm just... I'm here."
And then I opened a new carton of milk, poured it in Fable's cereal and spent the next twenty minutes trying to pack lunches. Distracted. Obsessed. Addicted to information overload refresh refresh refresh.
"Hello, it's 8:00."
"... Are you listening?"
Are you listening?
This week I haven't been very good at that.
Not as far as my family's concerned.
I have been completely in my head, in the heads of other heads, insane, trying very hard to focus on all the beauty - on my children and their love for each other - on people and their love for each other but sometimes ones sanity is a casualty of media war, consumption, of life and listening and I kind of just want to start yelling at things. At people.
I want to know. I want to hear. I want to understand. I want everything to be alright. So I watch and I listen and wait. I lose sleep. I ignore my family. Friends. Colleagues emails. I don't want to respond to anyone or answer anyone or do anything. I don't want to post photos or share videos or unlock the front door.
My thoughts are in the fetal position. I feel lost.
And then I recognize that for much of the world this is but a blip. That there are mothers right now making lunches for children who won't come home. That this is a world full of stories, of people who are hurting, hurting others. Of people who feel hated, hating others. That while beauty and love are in all of us, are everywhere, so is the fear that has kept us all on lockdown this week. And I have to acknowledge that, too.
I have to acknowledge this.
ALL OF THIS.
Because THIS is part of EVERYTHING.
THIS is the human experience. THIS is what it feels like to be a mother. To have children you love with your whole body and want to protect and at the same time, educate, inform... This is what it feels like to have family and friends and to love your country and to love people - all people - even the ones who represent all the things you are afraid of.
THIS is what it feels like to be united with thousands of people, to call our brothers just to hear their voices, even though we know they're safe. To touch a stranger's avatar on a screen with hope their words will yield answers (ed: last night was insane with misinformation) or perhaps a joke to make light of all the heavy.
And it's okay to want to look.
It's also okay to want to look away.
Which is why, even though nobody saw me roll my eyes this morning, I want to apologize for doing so.
We're all in this together, you know? We're all going in different directions trying to get to the same place.
We're all trying to move forward, to find the truth, to be better... We're all trying to share something (ANYTHING!) helpful, meaningful, or at the very least, honest.
We're all trying to make lunch.