It can't possibly have been only 3 days, but my perception doesn't change the actual facts. It's been 3 days. 3 days since our life here has a dark spot on it.
I never wanted to live in the suburbs. I never wanted to move to Colorado. We did both five years ago this September. Having lived in a small town (Lake Placid ) and then a city (Seattle), life in the suburbs just sounded like some bland compromise. Giving up all the benefits of small town living while taking on all the pitfalls of a city. I was pretty convinced the people would be just as compromised. *insert cringe for former self here* Upon arriving in Denver, actually Aurora- which is the point of this story- I thought I had landed on the moon with a bone-dry landscape surrounding me. I believe I used the word "over-rated" to describe the entire state. Second cringe. And then it pulled me in. I had never experienced open arms quite on this level or in this volume. Kindness, boy oh boy did I find kindness. And openness, sincerity, love. I was accepted here, and I'm not sure why. It's not like I was an insider. It's not like I was needed. I fell in love. Those people I thought might be "compromised"? Some of my favorite people in the world are born and raised in Aurora, Colorado. It's a humble, un-assuming kind of place. It's our generic, boring, fascinating, sprawling, dry, suburb. It's home.
So when I woke up to the news this week, it did something to me. Now, I always joke about getting shot here. When I learned a few months ago that statistically I actually am more likely to die of a gunshot wound than in a car accident, the joke lost a bit of it's strength. Sit with that for a minute. But a joke is a joke, right? Until it happens at the last place you saw a movie. Until the shooter is a student where your babies were born. Until he bought the guns at a place you love to wander with your family. Until he shoots people from your church. Until he is arraigned in the same courtroom, with the same judge, that finalizes your adoptions. Then it's no longer a joke.
I feel like a dark spot is on our lives here. Sadness, oh the sadness for the families of those killed in such a horrible act. I'm so sad. But no matter how sad, no matter how dark, one dark spot can't blot out the light we've known here, just as it can't ever blot out the one who is light. Not one dark spot.
I never wanted to live in the suburbs. I never wanted to move to Colorado. We did both five years ago this September. Having lived in a small town (Lake Placid ) and then a city (Seattle), life in the suburbs just sounded like some bland compromise. Giving up all the benefits of small town living while taking on all the pitfalls of a city. I was pretty convinced the people would be just as compromised. *insert cringe for former self here* Upon arriving in Denver, actually Aurora- which is the point of this story- I thought I had landed on the moon with a bone-dry landscape surrounding me. I believe I used the word "over-rated" to describe the entire state. Second cringe. And then it pulled me in. I had never experienced open arms quite on this level or in this volume. Kindness, boy oh boy did I find kindness. And openness, sincerity, love. I was accepted here, and I'm not sure why. It's not like I was an insider. It's not like I was needed. I fell in love. Those people I thought might be "compromised"? Some of my favorite people in the world are born and raised in Aurora, Colorado. It's a humble, un-assuming kind of place. It's our generic, boring, fascinating, sprawling, dry, suburb. It's home.
So when I woke up to the news this week, it did something to me. Now, I always joke about getting shot here. When I learned a few months ago that statistically I actually am more likely to die of a gunshot wound than in a car accident, the joke lost a bit of it's strength. Sit with that for a minute. But a joke is a joke, right? Until it happens at the last place you saw a movie. Until the shooter is a student where your babies were born. Until he bought the guns at a place you love to wander with your family. Until he shoots people from your church. Until he is arraigned in the same courtroom, with the same judge, that finalizes your adoptions. Then it's no longer a joke.
I feel like a dark spot is on our lives here. Sadness, oh the sadness for the families of those killed in such a horrible act. I'm so sad. But no matter how sad, no matter how dark, one dark spot can't blot out the light we've known here, just as it can't ever blot out the one who is light. Not one dark spot.
2 comments:
Thanks for taking the time to write. You do it beautifully. Know that we are praying for you and your adopted suburb.
More tears for you and your family, both immediate and broad. Praying for healing during a very challenging summer for your state, overrated or not.
On a lighter note, I'll remind you that I know of a city that would love to welcome you back. We have suburbs here too.
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