49 people dead. That’s all that I can think of right now. Since the news hit regarding the latest horrific tragedy, I keep thinking of how many people make up a crowd of 49.
I was at church and I started counting, 49 people encompassed the whole left side of the church, you know, where the people with the fresh kids sit. I went to a family party on Sunday- five families and we still didn’t equal 49 people.
It’s not about the number because that’s merely a smidgen of the people affected by this disgusting and cowardly act. Those 49 people have sisters, parents, brothers, lovers, ex-lovers and friends that can’t think of anything else other than their dead friend.
When I was a child, a boy in my class was strangled by a scarf that he was wearing while playing in the snow. It was a horrible accident that involved a young boy, a scarf and his dog. I think about that boy all the time. I don’t know his name, but I will never forget the sadness. I’m sure my parents bought me a few ice cream cones around that time, but I don’t remember them at all. I do remember this boy’s parents talking to my kindergarten class about their son’s death. You don’t forget something like that.
49 people at a dance club trying to have a good time on a Saturday evening were just massacred in Florida. Is this really happening?
I keep thinking, “this one hits hard,” but they all do. Then, I move on and get back into my groove and something else happens that rocks me to my core. When is my time? I’m always at a rock show, theater or party, is my time coming? Are we all taking our chances by attending events? I don’t want to live that way.
So, yeah, I feel a little funny writing about how much I dig Cage the Elephant or how the Tonys are the classiest and most amusing award show out there, or telling another drunken story that’s hysterical and pathetic. I couldn’t blog about the Tonys, I was too busy sleeping to try to forget about Orlando. After I put the kids to bed, I was either going to drink or sleep. I chose sleep.