The morning laughed at us. We all laughed back. I remember that the sun was shining particularly strong on this day even though we were in the middle of winter.
It was my daughter’s birthday this past Saturday and all of her family gathered to celebrate with her. “It’s my birthday!” Those were her first words. Her grandparents, her aunt and her uncle in unison said, “Happy Birthday!” The day started with a lightness, the mood festive and joyful. The evening promised more fun, with an ice skating party planned and a ride on the Zamboni machine.
At 10:00 a.m., on the same morning of my daughter’s birthday, in another corner of the state, there were shouts of fear even though the sun was shining particularly bright. Thirty-one gun shots were fired in Tuscon in an opening parking lot at a congressional outreach meeting. Six people were killed, among them, Christina Taylor Green, a nine year old girl who aspired to have a role in politics.
In any given moment, while you are laughing, someone else is crying. While you are celebrating, another may be mourning. As one life is born, at the same time, another may pass. It’s a delicate line between these diametric opposites. It startles and scares me. It causes me to pay attention.
Its happiness and mourning. And its Celebration and Despair.
How each can happen at the same time at any given moment. It’s a humbling realization about life.