I hate school mornings.
I loathe the insistence of my alarm clock.
I dislike my kids’ complaints, moans, and grumbles as I compel them out of bed.
I hate the swift nutrionlessness of weekday breakfasts – the bagels, the granola bars, the hurried toast.
I detest packing their lunches, slicing vegetables they will not eat, peanut-buttering bread that hopefully they will. Knife work in the morning is good for nobody.
I abhor the drop-off line in front of school. Too many parents driving too quickly. Too many kids dashing in between.
But most of all, I hate the thought that hate would ever be the prevailing emotion that my children feel as I send them away.
Because there were children in Oregon who never came home from school today. They were older kids, but they were somebody’s children. And they will never come home again.
My challenge for tomorrow: find a way for love to break through the hate.
I think maybe that is everyone’s challenge.
Go hug your kids, folks. Hug your parents, neighbors, teachers, and friends.
May we weave a blanket around our communities so this never happens again.
