I finally got around to writing a blog post, and it took over a week, but then this happened. So I'll post that mortifyingly shallow one tomorrow, because we're supposed to be going about our daily lives like nothing has changed, but today I need to wade into the probably copious coverage already surrounding this horrific drama.
This morning I woke up to the news that the siege was over, leaving three dead. And it was sad, horribly sad, that two innocent people died for nothing as they went about usual business.
But what keeps running through my mind has been centred around this crazed hostage taker who sounds like a pretty damn unsavoury character. And I just keep thinking - how did he get to be this guy? Where were his parents when he was growing into this person he became? Where were his people? The people that you surround yourself with who turn to you after one of your rants and say to your face, "you're a freaking nut job, and that is plain stupid"? The ones who keep you grounded and make sure you value not only yours, but the lives of others?
I hope that if I can achieve only one more thing in this precious, too short life, that it is to bring Wolfie up to be a person who loves life. Who respects others. Who understands the importance of making it count, and how lucky he is to be brought into a world full of people who love him, who will support him, and who will be there for him. Even if it sometimes means we have to tell him he's a nut job.