Don't Shoot The Messenger02-21-18

Lori Himes
Posted 2/19/18

Now I have always believed that there are at least three sides to every story. Her side. His side and the truth, that lies somewhere in the middle.

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Don't Shoot The Messenger02-21-18

Posted

 This past weekend we had the blessing of having our granddaughter come stay with us. Her parents had to work and we were the beneficiaries of their childcare scheduling difficulties. Madison’s personality is similar to mine, which at times can be endearing and at times frustrating. She is eight months younger than my step son and for the most part they are the best of friends. I used to call them the “Wonder Twins” but they have matured into my “Tweeners”. Not little kids anymore and not really big kids either. Both are trying to navigate the unchartered waters of growing up. My husband and I knew that a winter storm was coming so we strongly encouraged outside activities as much as possible, for as long as possible. I was enjoying a nice quiet cup of coffee when Madison returned, alone, crying. With a little questioning, Madison shared that Cody had “beat her up”. She shared that he was on his way home. I’m sure dragging his feet the whole way. When he arrived home, he knew what was about to happen. Now I have always believed that there are at least three sides to every story. Her side. His side and the truth, that lies somewhere in the middle. With each one of my questions their stories transformed and adapted into what each thought was a plausible tale that vindicated themselves and condemned their adversary. Since Madison had the only war wound, a small welt on her hip, I turned my attention to Cody. “Did you hit her?” He began a passionate response of what she did to him. I stopped him. “This is a simple yes or no answer. Did you hit her?” Again, he began a tirade on how he was offended. Wrong answer. UNDER NO CIRCUMSTANCES ARE YOU TO EVER RAISE YOUR HAND TO A GIRL. PERIOD. END OF STORY. DO YOU UNDERSTAND? Madison then received her lesson on the Golden Rule. The trying “Tweeners” were sent to neutral corners to reflect on their actions. A while later, Cody came into my bedroom to apologize. I gently told him I wasn’t the one that needed to hear his request for forgiveness. But that I meant everything that I had said. There is no excuse to hurt anyone, especially a girl. It was the way I was raised. It is the law in our family. There are no words to express my anguish over yet another school shooting. 17 people lost their lives in a senseless act of pure evil. Almost before the last spent brass hit the ground, opposing factions began lining up to express their tirades on how they are offended. It was the Democrats fault. No, the Republicans are to blame. The 2nd Amendment, NRA, FBI and bullies are the reason. It is all noise. As I have sat and watched the news reports of massacres at schools, shopping centers, churches, open-air concerts, I shake my head and ask how it is possible for any human being to be that evil. My husband, in his wisdom, always tells me that it is impossible for me to understand because I’m not wired that way. The survivors, families and communities of those impacted by such immense tragedy have the justified right to be heard. To share their experiences as they see fit for as long as they need to. To begin the healing process. To grieve. And the rest of the American citizens need to listen. Not listen to answer but listen to hear. To lower our pointed fingers. To grieve united. To step down from our soap boxes and political platforms and take a stand, together. UNDER NO CIRCUMSTANCES ARE YOU EVER TO TAKE A LIFE. PERIOD. END OF STORY. DO YOU UNDERSTAND? And then maybe we can start the path to a solution.