Moved

Two weeks ago, a tragedy occurred in an area that is roughly 20 minutes from my home.  In an area near where I used to teach.  In an area where many of my friends live.  It's hard to convey how close to home something like this hits.  It's hard to convey how it affects a community, even if you do not know any of the victims.  The idea that it could have been you.  That it could have been your friend or your neighbor.  The complete and utter senselessness of this shooting causes you to stop and think, to reflect, to feel grateful for the time you have with those you love.  And to feel grief, sadness, and even anger over the deaths of 6 completely innocent and good people, as well as the horrific injuries to others. 

When things like this happen, and especially in your community, you can't help but stay glued to the news for more information.  To grab your cell phone or log into Facebook and make sure all of your friends are safe.  I know that I spent the weekend glued to the TV, switching to different news stations to see if anyone had different news.  And although over the past two weeks, life has pretty much returned to normalcy, I still find myself thinking of those affected by this tragedy.

Which is why a couple of days ago I found myself calling my husband at work to ask him if he minded taking care of Bella on his own that evening so that I could go down to UMC to see the makeshift memorial that has been growing by the day since the night that this happened.  I felt like I needed to feel a part of the love that this wonderful community has been spreading to help heal the grief and shock felt by so many.

To say that I felt that love while standing in front of UMC would be a tremendous understatement.  I brought my camera with me to try to begin to capture the emotions, the love, the support, and the tremendous community spirit that is Tucson.  I don't know if I could fully capture those emotions that I felt while standing there, looking over a sea of flowers, candles, balloons, signs, photos, cards, stuffed animals, and every other momento left by thousands of visitors.  But I tried.