People Have Stories to Tell - Mary Kay Mace

The first time this blog was begun a few years ago it was intended to provide a forum for anyone and everyone having been affected by gun violence trauma to share their personal stories of survival and healing.

The blog is back, and every once in awhile I'll be kicking in with a story of my own. 

In the meantime, the first guest blog post I'm sharing is from Mary Kay Mace whose daughter, Ryanne, was killed at Northern Illinois University February 14, 2008.

Ryanne Mace - Summer 2005

This essay is Mary Kay's recounting of her memories from one year following the massacre at Sandy Hook Elementary School in Newtown, CT. These are the 'ripple effects' of gun violence and the effects it has on survivors.

I remember exactly where I was when I found out. I was sitting in my home office one year ago today when I saw the news that a gunman was reported at a Connecticut elementary school. I immediately felt my stomach clench. I hoped fervently that the situation was under control and that no one was hurt. I kept checking for updates but the news kept getting worse. Then the number of fatalities was reported: 26 dead – 20 of them, little kids. I felt as though I'd been plunged into a river of ice. My body started shaking uncontrollably and did so for the rest of that day. My husband was on a conference call all that morning and I knew that I had to let him know what had happened before he saw it elsewhere. I tried to dry my tears and clean up my face before I went in to him but all it took was one look at me for him to know: it's happened again. 

“Every parent's worst nightmare.” “I can't even imagine.” Those are two of the phrases I heard often in the aftermath of the Sandy Hook shooting. I can't claim to know the exact feelings of the families whose loved ones were the children and educators killed a year ago. Sadly, I don't have to imagine too much because I have more of an idea than most people do. My daughter, Ryanne, was killed in the mass shooting at Northern Illinois University on Valentine's Day of 2008. A gunman entered the lecture hall where an Ocean Sciences class was about to wrap up. He shot the instructor in the shoulder and then turned his gun on the 100-plus stunned students. Not everyone who ran made it out of that room.

I can tell you about that first year after such a tragedy. The ensuing shock, horror and chaos eventually do settle down a bit. The rest of the world moves on and the news media chase other stories. The bereaved, however, are just beginning to fathom the real meaning of “permanence.” You keep yearning to get back to normal but there are constant reminders that “normal” is a thing of the past. There's an actual, physical pain and debilitating exhaustion that accompany grief. You have good days and bad days. 

But even on what you think is a good day, you can have something sneak up such as a song that comes on the radio, or seeing someone who looks like your loved one, or someone innocently asking how many kids you have, and you feel like you've been sucker-punched as tears spring into your eyes. Surviving the heartbreaking milestones of that first year may feel like you're getting something out of the way or putting it behind you, but every holiday, birthday and anniversary is still much the same for years number two, three, ten . . the only difference is that you know in subsequent years that you can get through it without it killing you.

That's the message I'd like to give the Newtown families: you can get through it. You never stop missing your child but you learn how to live with the pain. The pain becomes a part of you, but a far greater part of you is the love you have for your child. You grow stronger as you heal and are able to refocus on what's really important in life. You no longer sweat the small stuff. You just honor your child's memory and continue to love her every bit as much as you always have. You always will.

For this first anniversary of the Sandy Hook tragedy, by all means, remember the victims who died and their grieving families. But violence triggers a ripple effect that impacts entire communities. Please spare a thought for the survivors, the first responders and the Newtown community, as well. The survivors who were in that school experienced abject terror during the onslaught and have invisible scars indelibly marked upon their psyches. Their suffering is real and far from over. The first responders, those brave men and women, saw unimaginable carnage. I'm sure their hearts were already broken as they coaxed the survivors to come out of hiding, trying to reassure them it was all safe. 

The larger community no doubt also experienced shock, wondering how in the world such a horrific thing could happen in the beautiful place they called home. The unthinkable had not only happened, but it happened to their friends, their neighbors. And the sad truth is, the unthinkable can happen anywhere, even here. We ARE Newtown.

Newtown has chosen to honor the memories of their fallen with acts of kindness, and so should we all. Who knows? Maybe helping others is what will become the new normal. 

I can't think of a more fitting tribute.

Thank you, Mary Kay Mace. Hopefully, you'll consider contributing more essays and insights in the future.

* Comments on this blog are moderated.