I check in her room and there is no sign of her. Minutes before, my daughter announced she was going to take a nap in her room. She wasn’t napping on her bed, but slipped into her pink tent and was snuggled into her sleeping bag even though it was almost a hundred degrees outside. Watching the peace on her face, my arms wanted to stretch out and give her a hug. Her tranquility kept my attention. I realized her calm is a reflection of her age.
She is six years old. This past weekend my daughter’s age kept ringing in my head. Another little girl, six years old, who accompanied her mother to the movies on Friday night. Her name was Veronica Moser. She loved to play dress up and eat ice cream. A happy and exuberant child, she was excited about completing her swimming lessons. The pendulum swang in a much different direction than she anticipated. She was gunned down on Friday night; her story will remain incomplete.
I am acutely aware of this pendulum, but fail to understand it. Every moment one of us is celebrating, someone, somewhere else is mourning a loss. I’ve talked about the shift in this space and how the pendulum swing, for any one of us, can move from one emotion to another. Often times, we are unaware of when this shift will occur, and when it does, we learn the temporary nature of our current emotion. How do we reconcile the swing? Sometimes we can’t.
Late Saturday night, I watched a movie at home with my daughter. She was giddy and excited about doing movie night. As we watched the movie, I learned in a news story that Veronica’s mother was told her six year old passed away.
The pendulum. It swings. It shifts. Without reservation or hesitation, it will continue to do so. Even if we don’t understand.