I pulled on my blue jeans (what could be more American) a black shirt, and my family and I went off to see the latest Batman movie. Yes, we discussed the massacre in Colorado and mourned for the lost and injured, as well as for their families and friends. In the end, though, we decided to follow through on the opening day plans we had made weeks ago.
So Saturday, we went to our normal Saturday lunch spot, Chan's; selected from our favorite entrees; took out the smart phones to double-check show times; and we went to the movie. It's not about gun control; it's not about morbid fascination with what creates the monstrous urge to kill; but it is about going on in a way that does not lend celebrity to a sad, criminally insane person. The theater was only about half full, and I couldn't help but notice that there was a sliver of light around the edges of the exit door. When the show ended, the movie-goers exited in almost silence.
I wore a black shirt to church today, also, in memory of those whose lives were snuffed out and those families whose lives will never be the same. I also remembered my dear niece, Becky, who was senselessly murdered 16 years ago when she was only 15 years old, shot in the head by a supposed friend in a schizophrenic rage. My heart goes out to those families touched by such insane violence, because I do know what they face in the days, weeks, months and years ahead. I will pray for comfort in their hearts, because I know that understanding never comes.
America mourns your loss.