Death and more death. Destruction. Despair.
When I woke up this morning, I thought, "My mom and dad have been married for 35 years as of today. Today my son is 5 months old." I looked forward to lunch with my husband, and to maybe hearing from my great-uncle, newly on E2.
Now it's all shattered. Looking down at my sleeping baby boy now, I wonder what sort of a world he will inherit, because of today. It makes me want to slap the hawks who are howling for blood on every channel. Revenge won't bring back the dead, just deepen the hatred that the assailants already clearly feel. Then they'll strike back, then we will...I don't want to live like that. I dont want him to live like that.
I bury my nose in his soft, fragrant skin, and wish for this morning again.