A post about todays shooting
First of all, I am so very very sorry to the families of the victims, the other children, and the family of the shooter. What happened is unexplainable and terrible. Nothing will ever make this go away. Nothing can explain it and nothing can make it better.
This is the short version, and some things have been left out on purpose, for privacy and for keeping it somewhat concise. If I wrote it all out, it would be a book.
Many of you are unaware of this, but I am a survivor of a murder-suicide. My Dadd (stepfather, whom I loved and called Dad) shot and killed my mother one friday morning on April 18th, he then called and told me what he did. His words were (and it was hard to understand him, his voice was so choked with tears - so much so that I didn't know who I was talking to at first) "Your Mom told me she wanted a divorce, so I shot her. I just wanted to tell you that I am so sorry, and that I love you, and I am going to kill myself"
This was the worst moment of my life.
I didn't believe him, I begged him not to kill himself, I tried everything I had been taught to get him not to do this, and then in the end, I hung up on him and called 911. I don't remember if I ever said I love you back. He killed himself then.
I forgive him, and mostly - I am not angry at him. I don't hate him, I love him as much as ever, still even after what he did. I now forgive my mother, and understand that while some of her actions might have helped push him over the edge - it was his choice to pick up that gun.
Let me tell you about my Dadd. He was in one word. Wonderful. In more words, kind, caring, smart, silly, fabulous, a kisser of boo-boos and the Evil Warlock - Zerlock who tickled us as kids. He was a hard worker, he had upstanding values, he was a hunter. He was also the least violent person in the world. Every animal he ever shot - he apologized to for taking its life. He thanked it for providing for his family. We respected our kills. He took me to my hunters safety course.
We had guns in the house growing up. Unlocked, in my parents bedroom. Before he died, my Dadd had amassed over 30 guns. Many of them heirlooms (and inherited), and a few pistols, including the one that ended his and my mothers lives. I knew how to handle a gun since - well I can never remember NOT knowing. I respected them, and we practiced gun safety even if we KNEW it was unloaded and pulled apart for cleaning. The ammo was within reach my entire life. I never once touched a gun without my parents permission, even when I owned my own.
My Dadd was never violent, and had never raised his hands - or even his VOICE to my mother. Us kids got yelled at if we deserved it, and paddled if we deserved that. He never enjoyed paddling us. We talked about this when I was older. It did put the fear of God into me lest I do something wrong. I toed the line I tell you.
My Dadd lost his job for the company that he worked for, he worked there nearly 25 years. He loved his job. They moved away to Mexico where labor was cheaper. My Dadd was so upset by this. He was NEVER the same afterwards. He went to school and did very well, graduated top of his nursing class. Started back to work. He hated it and was very unhappy.
Around this time my mother began to be plagued with some mental health issues herself. Strife was occurring. My Mom was acting MEAN and hateful. It was part of her illness. This was all taking a toll on my family - but especially my Dadd. He loved her so. She accused him of cheating and more - we wont get into it, but I swear on a stack of holy books of your choice, that it was not true. Mum got on meds - things improved. Dadd was also on meds for a while for depression.
Then Mum went off her meds (dr supervised) and frankly went nuts, she was obviously bi-polar and was totally manic - this is also when she got mean and hateful. Dadd was struggling. Then my Grandfather died, (his Dad) and things started to really go down hill. Mum was manic, not sleeping, drinking, chain smoking and partying and more. Dadd was desperate, and tried to reconnect with her, he became more depressed.
One morning he called me. Telling me he was going to take his own life. I talked him out of it and called 911 and we got him to the hospital - in good hands right? Well the idiots released him the same day with some xanax, His regular dr put him on some zoloft. A few weeks later I get that awful phone call while driving. Where he told me what he had done, and what he was planning.
Not my Dadd, not this gentle soul that I knew, This loving man, who would help ANYONE and do anything for anybody. Would give you the shirt off his back. How could he?
Simple. He was sick and desperate, and sick. Did I mention that? I am so sorry Dadd. I am so sorry it got to that point. I am sorry we couldn't get you more help. I am sorry it all went so horribly wrong.
My Mother had told me a short time before that she was afraid for her safety - I dismissed her fears, I discussed with my brother about removing the guns from the house after his suicide threat. We decided against it for several reasons. 1. The shear number of them and where to put them all. 2. We felt it wasn't showing trust in him. 3. He wouldn't harm anyone EVER, he cried when he shot a deer! (I saw him) I wish I could go back and at least validate my mothers feelings. To help her feel safe.To do something different.
In the end, my Dadd used a legally purchased and registered pistol, that he had bought when he was 100% of sound mind. Things changed later on. You know what... I am really glad I didn't take his guns away. If he really wanted to do this - there were worse ways to die. This way, my beautiful Mother never felt any pain. Neither did he. The instant he pulled the trigger - they were both at peace. Had he not had access, what horrible way, what horrible awful painful, non-instant way would they have died? My imagination has run away with this train of thought more than once :(
It isn't my fault, my Dadd made the choice to pick that gun up and fire it. It was somewhat planned. I don't blame the laws and I don't blame the gun. Shit fucking happens. Awful shit happens to really good people. And it sucks. It happened to me. No law, noone could have stopped this - it was worse than a cartoon snowball pushed off a mountain, getting bigger and bigger until it flattened - in this case lives.
Was it the meds... There is no telling. Honestly, even if the meds lowered inhibitions or something, the pills didn't pick that gun up and put it into his hand. No, this was a choice he made, deliberated on, then acted on. It may have been somewhat impulsive (we don't know) but it wasn't as instant as you think. He shut the dog in the bedroom, went around the OUTSIDE of the house to get to my mum. He also shot himself outside. While I cant prove it, I feel he planned that he and my mother die outside.
I was so ashamed afterwards. I felt that the whole world was looking at me, his daughter, judging me. Judging him. Thinking that he was an awful person. condemning him. They didn't even KNOW him. They didn't know our story. These strangers, reading about it in the papers, hearing it on the news. Judging my Dadd, thinking he was a bad man. HE wasn't a bad man, the CHOICE he made was bad.
I wish there would have been more mental health access for my Dadd. I wish there wasn't a stigma against mental illness and seeking help for it. I wish that dr would have monitored him more closely - or better yet, admit him. I wish he had not pulled that trigger.I wish mum had better help, wasn't drinking, I wish so many things.
I still love them both. I don't hate either of them. If either of them were standing in front of me today. I would hug them and accept them back into my life, no questions asked.
So in this time of great grieving and the pain that we feel, the sorrow at lives lost. Please, don't blame the guns, or the laws on guns, (he made this choice not the gun) Had he not had a gun, he could have made bombs, or used a frying pan on his loved ones. Don't blame the meds........ YOU DON'T KNOW.
Don't blame his family, or even the gunman himself - you don't know ANYTHING about the situation behind it. Nor will you ever. You will get a media-painted picture of it, that may not be accurate. In the end, you weren't in his head, you don't know his motives. This doesn't make what he did OK. No far from it. He did something wrong. Very wrong.
Instead send love, prayers, vibes, jingles - whatever your fancy, to all involved. For the children who's lives were lost, for the ones left behind, affected forever by his decision. For their families, for the killer's family. And, yes, even for the killer - for you don't know. It isn't for you to know. It is bigger than us.
Help how you can, donate time or money, knit a bear for the survivors. Teach love. Teach tolerance. Teach anti-bullying, teach all the good things. Don't allow violence. See when people are hurting and help them. Start changing the system, have mental health care available to all who need it for as long as they need it, no limits. Beef up the security in schools, go ahead - enact some gun control - I am all for it. Our rights to bear arms won't be taken away. and I am fine (as a gun owner myself) having to register and wait and more for a gun. If it helps with safety - I am all for it. And assault rifles have no place in hunting, or leisure anyway. There are plenty of firearms for that. Make it a little harder get a gun. Don't worry, I don't mind waiting for one. Be nice to others, do good wherever you can, whether someone notices or not. Hug more. Just, be kind and loving. That is all anyone can ask