A Letter from an Angry American Mother

102 mothers –

No, let me start over.

102 MORE mothers wept on a somber Sunday morning in Orlando, Florida. 49 of those women will never cradle their child in their arms again.

102 more of my ilk fell to the ground or stomped their feet or screamed out in unbelievable anguish at the loss or the injury of their children. 53 of those women may have to nurse their grown child to health.

I am so disappointed in you, America – no, not all of America.

I am disappointed that people exist purely to spread and fan the flames of hatred to their families, friends, churches, and schools. I am disappointed that there are human beings here who can easily proclaim “from my cold dead hands” when really the only things that are being pried from anyone’s hands are the bodies of these young men and women from the arms of their loved ones as the casket lid slams down. I am disappointed that you are so worried about your guns that you will go to extraordinary lengths to hurt and offend anyone who may offer even a compromise so that our children, our future, our only hope for peace, love, and tolerance in this world, STOP dying.

My friend shared a fairly harmless meme about gun control. Within one day, it went from heated discussion to all out death threat from the party who was defending his right to own an assault rifle.

I watched today as the brilliant energy that was my beautiful dog left her body and her eyes faded. I watched a life extinguished and this one little life that just gave my family great joy moved me so terribly, I can not stop shaking.

49 more HUMAN lives extinguished and you don’t even bat an eye or skip a beat in joining the “mah freedom, mah guns!” parade. Or blaming everything else but the actual problem. Or moving on with your lives because at this point the question is no longer “Will it happen?” The question now that looms is “When?” We have allowed ourselves to rise up just enough to bicker with one another but not enough to actually make a change and now it is almost an expectation that for years to come will integrate itself in our great American legacy. 1 in 88 children are born with autism in America. 1 in 5 women will be sexually assaulted in America. 1 in, I don’t know, 100 gay Americans are shot at night clubs in America as of 2019. 1 in 75 kindergarten students are shot on their way to craft tables at school as of 2025. This has become such a normal facet of our culture and it concerns me deeply that there is still not enough momentum to make a difference.

My dog’s passing today broke me in half. The deaths of human beings should at least break you in half. Make you angry enough to say IT STOPS NOW. How is this compassion so lacking? How can this become anything other than the real issue that it is? We are allowing hatred and ignorance, selfishness and greed to tear us apart and turn us against each other. And in a very human way, we are extremely susceptible to this literal insanity, running around in circles, yelling the same things back and forth to each other from either side of the fence.

How can I see this same song and dance every time there is a hate-fueled tragedy that we can try to avoid in the future and shudder, but you can just pick up your briefcase and go to work like business as usual? Are you profiting that much from this pain?

Not even starting down the rabbit hole of how we handle mental health and criminals in this country. Where affluenza-afflicted killers and star athlete rapists are protected but our poor and our mentally ill fall through the cracks, the latter often become part of the next big attack. Where the very men and women that we send away to fight for our right to these freedoms are not receiving adequate care, can’t recognize themselves when they look in the mirror, and sometimes even turn the gun on themselves. Where we use moments like this one to boost other agendas, climbing atop the heads of others spewing words like “9/11”, “Newtown”, or even “Columbine” to incite and divide for a selfish purpose rather than to actually remember the loss, pay the respect, and do something so we can stop reducing these horrific and painful losses to common nouns to throw out along a campaign trail.

I have said it before and I will say it again. I don’t want to take away your guns. I do want you to meet me halfway. Even the moms on that side of the argument.

“Mommy, I love you.”

I am an American mother and I am angry. Our children, our future, of all colors, creeds, preferences, need us to begin shaping this country so that they all happily get a piece of the pie. They don’t need the words “mass shooting” to be as commonplace as “it’s Tuesday.”

I pleaded before in this blog. I don’t pretend to know how to run a political campaign or enact policy. I am not sitting here saying I could do it better. But I am angry. Everyone is angry. And as a mother, just trying to comprehend what every shooting victim’s mother’s heart must feel like as it is exploding against the inside of their chest, I am united with unbelievable love and compassion in my anger. No hatred, no malice, no intentions other than to simply say ENOUGH.

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