I woke up sad, depleted of energy and slightly bewildered.
Awoke to my amazing husbands love and morning kisses as always but my heart was heavy...
I had a crazy dream I was shot by a young, scared teenager. We entered the school together and he was staring at me so I smiled.
I saw the gun in his right hand but chose to talk to him anyways by commenting on the cup in his left hand.
“Hola. (Smile big) How are you today? (Pause. Look hard at his cup) Is that coffee or an espresso?”
He looked shocked and confused at the same time.
I followed him into the elevator of the well lit; filled with sunshine school.
(I attended school in the Sunshine State when I was 8-9 years old so some of my dreams in schools are sunny...even the nightmares).
I kept eye contact with him in the long elevator ride up. He started to pray. I heard Arabic so I started praying with him. Waiting for him to use his hands as I was taught to do whenever we take off in flight) He didn’t use his hands for prayer but instead put his gun up and aimed it at my hip.
I saw his eyes tear up; big as a deer in headlights. I told him calmly and compassionately; “You don’t have to do this. I’m here. I’m here for you. You know that right?
His gun hand went limp as the elevator doors opened. Next thing I know, he rushes out and I practically chase after him.
The bell rang and I saw kids stampede out but my focus was on him.
He now has a double hoodie up upon his head. His gun was up as well.
I grabbed him. Hugged him; held him desperately.
Saw his eyes fill up with more tears with his eyes as big as an owls surrounded by the soft cotton crown of his grey/red hoodies.
Next thing I knew: his cold, hard; heavy pistol was on my neck.
I woke up as the gun went off in my throat...
I told my husband and he was surprised. Started to tell me about the horrific shooting tragedy that transpire yesterday in Florida.
I intook a strained gulp of air and cried out: ‘What!? No way. What happened?’
He told me it was a white guy, 19 years old with a rifle who was previously expelled...
I was instantly furious at this sick guy.
This crazed teenager. This vile murderer. 16+ innocent lives!
Immediately blurring the image of the scared; emotional gun man/teenager in my nightmare.
‘Not again! This must stop! Heaven help us. Not again. ‘ (Thoughts flushed in).
That was around 7am. My husband left for work @8am.
I remained in bed depressed, heavy, shocked and frozen.
I thought of my baby cousins; some in school still. I thought of my baby niece. She is not even 3 years old but what country and world she is growing up in.
Then thoughts about war, blood, unavoidable bloodshed. Then nothing...
Couldn’t get out of bed until 11:59am (Thanks Ramy. You are my hero)!
Had no appetite but also no prayers.
Only fury, a broken heart and a wave of questions demanded from all but no one:
How can I contribute to the change we so drastically need...what can one person do. Something has to give! What can we do!? I need to know!
No words left except...
PLEASE CHOOSE LOVE!
Hate is truly, too heavy a unnecessary burden to bear.
Just as bearing arms for senseless murders is beyond heavy and unnecessary.