Pass the Comfort On

I don’t think I’m the only one that hugged my kids a little closer when they woke up this morning. Or the only one who smiled a little wider at their antics and kissed their soft cheeks a few more times.

I also don’t think I’m the only one who hugged them a little tighter when I put them to sleep tonight. And didn’t mind quite so much when sleep evaded them way past their witching hours.

I don’t think there’s anything left to say other than I wish more deeply than I knew I could that Leiby’s mother could feel his arms around her one more time. Or that someone had driven a car on Monday morning that killed the murderous monster.

But instead I obsess, I agonize, I search for more news, when no news in the world can be the news I want.

I saw his facebook profile online. He had over 250 friends. Granted, we all know facebook friends aren’t actual friends. But 250? And no criminal record? How does someone go from there to a blood stained freezer and an act so evil that left veterans of crime solving in tears?

I don’t know. I want to know the thoughts that went through his head. Does everybody want to know that? I know it won’t matter but I still want to know what he was thinking. Was he thinking? I can’t picture the scene, how he could see that sweet face we have all grown to love, and hurt him.

I can’t fathom how such evil could exist. Right here among us.

I don’t know how to get past this. How to shield the Kletzky’s from their terrible horrible pain.

But I do know that the small arms wrapped around me give me comfort.

And I wish I could pass that comfort on.

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