JP's 15th birthday was Tuesday but our celebration was muted, to say the least, after the mass shooting at the Covenant School in Nashville on Monday. I'm not sure any of us felt comfortable celebrating JP's birthday in light of the tragedy that had occurred less than 10 miles from our house.
Nashville's private, or independent, school community is close knit. Many of the kids went to elementary school together, played sports together, went to camps together, or go to church together. So many kids, and families, are connected in some way, large or small. As a result, a tragedy like Monday's, in which three nine year old children and three adults were slaughtered by a deranged 28-year old killer, effects so many of us as waves of grief ripple across our city.
Monday night at bedtime, JP walked back downstairs in tears because in searching for news about the victims of the shooting on his laptop, he realized that he went to school with Hallie Scruggs' brothers at MBA. Jude and hugged him and struggled to find words of solace to comfort him.
What do you tell your son, on the even of his 15th birthday, when he looks you in the eye and asks how can something like this happen?
In that moment, I don't think I've ever felt more inadequate as a father. How can I explain to JP that he lives in a world where three nine year olds and three adults can be murdered on a Monday morning, at school of all places? How can that happen? How can we, as a society, allow that to happen? Where is God in all of this? So many questions to ponder this week, many of them existential in nature.
I don't understand how so many in our country - I would call it a vocal minority - became so gun-loving and gun-worshipping that preserving their right to own an assault rifle is more important than keeping schools safe and preserving the lives of our children. Why can't we come together, as Americans, and have a reasoned discussion about meaningful gun reform and devoting more resources to mental health treatment. Wouldn't that be a good place to start?
I can't comprehend how the families of the victims feels today, Sunday, as they prepare to go to church. The parents of those three innocent children - I can't stop thinking about them. I don't know how you go on. I really don't.
Jude and I had multiple conversations with JP and Joe this week, together and separately. We've tried to help them process what happened and to answer their questions. I guess we've tried to give them space but, at the same time, to be there when they wanted to talk about it. There is no blueprint for how to handle something like this. No blueprint for the families for the victims, for our family and other like ours, and for our city and our community.
At one point, on one of our many rides to and from MBA this week, I talked to JP about my faith in God. I confessed to him that, at first, when my mom was diagnosed with Alzheimer's disease, I was lost and angry at God. For a time, I stopped going to church on Sundays, instead going to see her at Maristone and, later, NHC Place in Cool Springs. Finally, I talked to Father David at our church - St. Patrick - and he helped me gain some much needed perspective.
I also told him that, for me, it is important to feel like God has a plan for everything and everyone. I probably couldn't function in life if I believed there was a randomness to everything, particularly the tragedies that occur. I have to believe that God has his hand in all of it, the good things and the bad things. All of it. Now, we're not going to understand the "why" part of God's will but true faith, to me, is trusting that God has a plan. Someday, somewhere, we'll understand it, but not during our time on this earth.
I don't know if that was any comfort to JP or if it provided him with any insight. I do know that JP, on his own, reached out to our priest, Father Hammond. He's going to have a private conversation with him and I'm grateful for that.
I'm at a loss and I feel empty, as I finish my Sunday morning coffee at Dose. On a week when a school shooting occurred so close to home, literally, JP turned 15. In many ways, the perfect son. Hard working, kind, dedicated, respectful, earnest, inquisitive, disciplined. A quiet leader in so many ways, on and off the athletic fields, and in the classroom.
As I strolled with him through our old neighborhood in the City Elite, I dreamed he would grow up to be the kind of boy he actually has become. In that way, sometimes dreams really do come true.
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