A Comfy Kind Of Restless

Hello.

Hubby had mentioned that there seemed to be some incident unfolding in Manchester last night as I was doing bloggy stuff on the PC, and he’d put the news on downstairs for a few minutes.  I grimaced and said that I hoped it was not too serious, but I did not look anything up at that point.

Hubby was working from home today, as he often does on a Tuesday, and we went about our usual school morning business: hugged and cajoled the kids as we always do, made sure that they got into the nursery and classroom on time. 

We didn’t really talk to anybody, as hubby had a 9.30am audio meeting he had to get back for.  I did send a few private messages to some mums on Facebook, but were just talking about what we were up to this morning, and I didn’t really look at my feed.

I turned on my laptop, to start work on some of the post about Rab, and that is when I realised that Hubby had seen the first reports of the terror attack at the Manchester Arena.  It was all over MSN.

I tried to avoid reading into anything too deeply at that time, but the changing headlines were updating me as I worked. 

I walked down to get Youngest (one of my lovely mum friends picking me up on the way) and watched him frolicking about with a nursery pal, and I chatted to the boy’s father.  Hubby came to get us and ran around with the kids a little more, before we went back home for lunch.

Only then did I watch the news properly.  My heart just breaks for the loved ones left behind! It was, and is, just too horrific to fully take in.  What hit me the hardest was the fact that so many families are still searching for their loved ones after the attack, and that young people were targeted so ruthlessly.  I would never wish that on anyone, no matter how angry I was at the world, or how suicidal.

It was achingly bittersweet to hear of all the help that was offered in the aftermath, however.  It is always important to focus on how good people are at rising to challenges – how no matter what the community can be useful and comforting in little ways.  It always makes me realise that everything is not lost, and that I could and would act the same in dire circumstances.  The majority of humans, thankfully,  have a capacity for good that far outweighs their darker elements.

I had a nice snuggly nap with Youngest on the couch, and hugged Eldest extra tight when he came home with Hubby.  I wish I could let them all know unequivocally the depth of my love for them, to safeguard against that day when I may not be able to tell them again, that day that we all dread when we love people that much…

When I saw ‘shame’ and ‘secret’ come up, it sparked a poem about last night.  I always wonder about people who commit such carnage, about how they justify it to themselves and keep going with their plan. There is lots in the media about not being angry, or letting it stop us doing things we love.  I’d want answers if I was a bereft parent, and yet never be able to question the killer.  I would find that part the hardest to get past.

Screw  Relieved  Veil  Afternoon  Shame  Feigned  Secret  Nest  Intend

It takes more than just a loose screw

To pack a bag full of destruction,

And walk among them there.

To feel relieved that no one guessed,

That your veil of deceit

Lay undetected.

To not have second thoughts

Weeks before.  Or ‘chicken out’

That afternoon.

To not be plagued by shame

That such thoughts even

Entered your head.

What hatred of humanity

To have feigned decency…

Lived shoulder to shoulder…

While, in a secret nest somewhere,

All was black and wicked.

You: smiling upon your work,

As their fate you fashioned?

No mercy did you ever intend.

Youngest went in the bath first, and came through all soggy-haired and pink to tell me about the many new toys in the nursery that he’d suddenly remembered about.  They’ve been raising funds recently.

“Dere a new goo-illa (gorilla) game…da old one needed sellotape cos it was bwoken…if not healfy, or dust a tweat, goes to gweedy goo-illa, if is healfy it goes on your bo-waard.”  Apparently, Youngest and his pal were having great fun feeding the gorilla things they wouldn’t like: “we sayin’ ‘I don’t want dis, I don’t want dat!!’” The memory of it, and accompanying gestures, made him chuckle, which set me off!

There was also a ‘Ma-bul Wun’ (Marble Run) where one “put da ma-bul at da top and it slides down and it twists because dere’s a spinny fing at da bottom”; and ‘Noo Wooden Twain Twacks’ – “oo know what twain twacks do!”

New “taw-a-ches” (torches) for the woodwalk also featured; “but I don’t fink day will open dem tomorrow” (he is going on the woodwalk with hubby tomorrow).

I read the boys another chapter of the 10^th Famous Five book, and cuddled them both until they were nearly asleep, trying not to cry all over them. They are so beautiful, and I really hope they get to have the long and happy lives all parents wish for their children.

I am just so sorry we live in a world where a minority feel they have the right to take, in the most vile ways possible, a family’s right to grow and love and be together.  Manchester, I stand and cry with you.

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