Shirking Responsibilities

Blonde. Girl. I look across the table at my beautiful daughter and realize she shares two attributes with the victims of the latest schoolhouse shooting madness. There have been so many.

Innocent. Apparently safe. Two more profile matches.

It could never happen. But that’s what Amish mothers and mothers in Denver thought, too.

I’d like to hide the newspaper, continue our cheery breakfast chatter. Why make her anxious?

But she’ll hear about it at school anyway. I’d be shirking my duty if I didn’t create a safe space for her to ask questions, share her feelings.

It’s a duty I’d like to shirk.

Warily, wearily, I venture forth.

“Did you hear about what happened at these schools?”

“No. What?”

There is no retreat from oblivion now.

By Lorrie Goldin