I am not sleeping well. This morning I was awake at 3:30 am. I had been dreaming....though I don't know that dreaming would be the word for it...that I was one of the first people in the school in Sandy Hook after the 911 call. I saw myself enter the school...running past broken glass. Then I woke up.
It is a strange feeling to have. I cannot image the sights and sounds the emergency services people and the first responders experienced. One of the families issued a statement yesterday and they talked about the trauma those responders are dealing with along with all the families.
I have been thrown back into memories of when I directed a domestic violence and sexual assault agency for a little over ten years. I never imagined the imprint those experiences would have on me.
I was remembering yesterday the time I had to go pick up children from the sitter. The mom had come into our shelter after having been beaten and the mom was afraid the father would snatch the children. For some reason law enforcement was not available so I went alone with the mom to get the children.
We were both scared. She was afraid he had his gun with him. As we approached the sitter's house she screamed, "There's his truck!' Then the next minute said, " Oh it's not!" My heart took a minute to start beating again as I remember.
As she ran in the house to get the children I had time to think. What would I do if he showed up? Would I take off? Would I get between him and the kids? I honestly thought if I got shot my mom would come to the hospital and say, "What were you thinking?!"
Funny what you think about in moments like that...
I honestly remember all those thought colliding in my head as I sat there...looking from the house to the road...wondering what I would do. As I was asking myself one more time would I get between the kids and their apparently out of control dad...the little kids came running out of the house in their pajamas. Of course I would I thought and I jumped out of the car...hustled them inside the car, buckled them in and took off.
I will never forget the mom who said to them, " You never have to be scared again kids...this lady will keep you safe." I looked around and wondered who she was talking about because I was pretty scared myself. Then I realised that she was talking about me! I turned to the kids and said, "You are coming to my house for a sleepover"...smiled and stepped on the gas.
I thought about that yesterday a lot. The feeling of responding even when you are scared because it is what you do.
I though about the emergency services people...the police, first responders, the teachers, the janitor.... everyone who responded ... I would want them all to know as the weeks and months past they need to take time to be gentle with themselves as they process through what has happened. What they saw, what they heard, what they smelled, what they felt.
I heard a woman speak at a trauma conference years ago about being involved in responding during the Oaklahoma City bombing. She cried as she recounted how many responders were reluctant to get help for themselves afterwards. Many she thought saw it as a sign of weakness. It is NOT.
The helpers will need help. Even the strongest among them will need support. I hope they all in their own way are open to receiving it.
The gift they gave last Friday was their very presence in the face of so much horror. Now they need to be as present for themselves as they can be to accept the gift of support they so much deserve....and I believe will need.
