A friend reached out to me recently. She was struggling with a difficult question. She has a son who is a college freshman, hundreds of miles away from her, and a first grader. Her son, like mine, is the same age as the students who survived the Sandy Hook shooting. Her daughter is the same age as the students who died that day.
I don’t know how to send my children into a world that is not safe for them, she said.
Yes, I said. That is hard.
She asked, How do we face the horrors of the world, while still living in it?
I sat for a moment, and absorbed the question—its enormity, its sincerity. Here’s what I said.
One of the things I know from working for so many years with victims of crime and others in trauma is that the thing that happened to them is rarely anything they predicted or worried about. They worried about school shootings, and not cancer. Or they worried about drunk driving, and not suicide. About environmental disasters and not interpersonal violence.
We have so much less control than our anxious minds would like to believe.
Of course, we must protect ourselves as best we can: don’t drink and drive, take care of your mental and physical health, lobby for legislation to make our world safer. In particular, use your anger or worry or frustration to fuel action that makes a change.
And also, know that we cannot protect ourselves or the ones we love.
(I hate that, by the way. I’m guessing you do, too.)
The second thing I have seen from those who have faced enormous loss is that they generally wish they hadn’t spent so much time worrying. Mostly, they wish they could have one more day with their loved one, just enjoying them.
Danielle was a friend of mine in college. She was…so wonderful. Hilarious. Fun. Electric—her nickname was Sparky. She died of brain cancer a few days before her 28th birthday. God, what I wouldn’t give for one more day with her, laughing and dancing, being silly. When she was sick, I spent so much time trying to make everything right—the rides to treatments, the notes of appointments, the right food, the right care, the right visitors.
What I remember most fondly now is dropping her off at home one night, after a dinner that was too tense because I wanted it to be so perfect for her. As we walked from the car, we began to sing together: “My Girl” by The Temptations. Decades later, that song still makes me smile. What a gift that moment was.
I don’t wish now I had been more alert to the dangers she faced. I wish I had enjoyed my time with her more.
And so, what I know, is that we can’t protect ourselves from bad things happening, or even guess what they might be. All we can do is love each other, and try our best to be present for the gifts of this day. Hold on, loosely. Be grateful for what we have in this moment—all the more precious because it is fleeting.
Bad things do happen to good people. It can cause trauma –
Thanks for the reminder to Enjoy life and love those around you ….so true- thank you Katherine!
Absolutely! Thank you, Robin!
This was a wonderful read!
As someone who fears having children because of the rise in gun violence and climate change, this hit home.
Your point on accepting that we can’t protect those we care about and live with it is honest and painful, yet the only way we can experience life in all its splendor.
Thank you for sharing.
Thanks for the kind words, Alejandro. Sending all best wishes to you.
I really need to hear this today! Thank you!
I’m glad it helped, Rebecca. Hope you’re doing all right.
Thank you for sharing at the right time 🥹
Thanks so much for reading!
wonderful and insightful words Katharine. Ones I’ll share with my followers. Stay safe.
Thank you, Kate!
This was a great perspective & helpful to me – not only as an advocate, but as the mother of a 16 year old who is currently college shopping. You’ve reminded me to be smart & seize the day!
I’m so glad it was helpful, Leone! And good luck with the college shopping!
I needed to hear this. Thank you!
Thank you, Charlettia. Sending you all best wishes.