Legacies

I captured this peaceful moment just two days after nineteen children and two educators lost their lives. It was also the day these same children and their teachers should be celebrating their last day of school. Instead, it was a day their families planned funerals, politicians offered their lame “thoughts and prayers,” outraged Texans protested at the NRA convention, angry rants were posted on social media, and others stated that “guns are not the problem.” John and I chose to step away from the fray and go for a hike.

The day began with both of us feeling out of sorts. Perhaps we were just weary from raging at the politicians on TV, writing terse emails to our legislators, or just beleaguered by the plethora of sad stories. I was snappish with John, and he was sullenly silent…both of us going through our morning routine steeped in sadness. The ride to the trailhead was silent as well. Even our stop at the Appalachian Women’s Center to drop off our granddaughters’ outgrown dollhouse did not cheer me as it usually does. There was no merry volunteer to greet us nor give us a reason to smile.

Once on the trail, we first stopped at Foster Falls. Recent spring rains made the cascade of water seem even more spectacular. We smiled as we listened to the screams of the intrepid waders below and marveled at their bravado. At each subsequent overlook, we paused and began to talk eventually sharing our deep sadness. Each of us still overwhelmed but trying now in these quiet moments to convey how we felt to each other.

Nature has a way of healing us but maybe more importantly reminding us of our smallness. It whittles everything down to size whether it is anger, frustration, or just grief plaguing us. Perhaps, it is this whittling down that reminds me of how little time I have here. As I stood on those weather worn rocks carried by glaciers eons ago, it was easier to fathom my own tiny life span. Our lives are mere sixty second commercials in the grand scope of earth’s time. What message do I want to impart or leave behind? Is it rage? Anger? Silence?

The children and teachers in Uvalde had far fewer days than I. Yet, despite their short lives, they left legacies worth noting…bright smiles, friendships, sweetness, scholarly effort, sportsmanship, kindness, and a zest for a life that sadly seems unfinished. It is up to us who are left behind to turn our grief into action, our anger into resolve, and our impatience into thoughtful debate. If nothing else, I hope my life’s sixty second commercial imparts kindness and compassion even when I faced the deepest of sorrows.

© Catherine Hause