On life, on loss

Baby is squirming now, sometimes nudging. I felt the first true jolt the afternoon after our sonogram and then all that weekend. It was like the baby knew we had been looking at her/him and wanted us to know she/he had something to say, that her/his arms were meant for moving. But we're largely still coexisting quietly. Almost 24 weeks already. 16 more to grow. Except for a few days when it has felt like I'm stretching, being pushed from the inside out (which I am), I still can't complain.

I miss Snickers. I'm mad that Snickers was taken so suddenly, that she was alive one second and dead the next. I'm mad at the neighbor cats who still lurk for her and her food in the morning when I back out of the driveway, mad at the car that hit her, mad that I didn't bring her inside that night. But she had a good life, a happy life, a much-loved life. I gave her eight years of mine, adopted her on clearance from the back bottom cage at the PetSmart in Topeka, stuck with her through peeing-on-my-bed spells and packed her up with me wherever I moved. I loved her, and I will always love her, and I will keep expecting her face on the back step when I open the door.

But I can't complain. Last night nine people were murdered during a prayer group at a church in Charleston, shot by a young man who they had welcomed in. The fact that some people can carry so much hate with them that they would hurt people in their most vulnerable and trusting state is unfathomable.

The fact that some people think more guns is the solution to gun violence is unfathomable.

The fact that our governor can boast that allowing concealed carry without a permit is a win for our state because it protects the second amendment, that you can buy a gun and carry it into a zoo, a daycare, a grocery store at your whim, is unfathomable.

The fact that our governor can claim a .5 percent sales tax hike statewide is not a tax increase, while 330,000 small businesses pay no income tax, is unfathomable.

The fact that people are "trading in" their aging pets for young ones at shelters, and that people are posting photos of these dogs as they watch their owners abandon them, is unfathomable.

I am sensitive to injustices, feel it in my gut the people and animals that are sacrificed just so a select few can feel powerful. This is what I am bringing my child into: a delusional world where fear begets fear. Can I raise my child to combat this? To be the change in the world I wish to see? I believe I can, but it scares me. It scares me because I can't control the decisions other people make. I can't stop the car in the night from hitting my cat. I can't prevent a hateful man from entering a church. I can't shake leaders out of the grip of money and power. I can't make you love your dog until death.

But that is part of making yourself vulnerable, of living with wholeheartedness. If you shut out the bad, you also shut out the good. If you turn off your trust, you turn away everyone. If you don't walk into life expecting good, you will only experience the bad. And who wants a life filled with fear?

Trust, my child, but be aware. Love, my child, but know that hurt may come. Sing, my child, but listen to all of the other voices. We are all in this together.