It's the best I can do

Dear Sweet Daughter,

It's been mere hours since two bombs were detonated at the finish line of the Boston marathon. In the past, these events, although always tragic, have never cut so deep. Not because I was personally affected this time, but because I now have you.

The news is now reporting that of the 110 people injured (some children), two died (one an 8-year-old girl). As I watch you sleep, I feel so lucky to have you and I feel so much pain for those who have lost loved ones. I think of how each of those people is somebody's son or daughter. I try to think about what I would do if that were my son or daughter, and my brain shuts down before I can even process it.

When the news broke, I had two immediate reactions: 1) How could I bring you into a world with so much evil? Shooters, and terrorists, and goddamit stubbed toes? and 2) How can I make the world better? What can I do to outshine that evil?

As I absorbed all the images and insta-information reported on by CNN, fed by Generation Tweet, I realized that my first question actually answers my second, Dear Sweet Daughter.

Dear Sweet Daughter, you are the answer. You are my shining good in a world full of evil, and the best thing I can do to make the world a better place is to raise you with love and teach you to be kind.

I can teach you to help others, like those running toward the explosion to help the injured.

I can teach you to be kind, by being an example and being kind to others myself.

I can teach you to respect others, because everyone deserves respect. Everyone.

I can teach you patience, unless it comes to technology, because your Dad will have to teach you patience with technology as I don't have any.

I can always make you a priority, so that you'll know family always comes first and that we'll always be here for you.

I can encourage you to learn, because so much of the hate in the world is bred from ignorance.

I can do the best I can to help raise the next generation to be kind and thoughtful and understanding and forgiving. It won't be perfect, but hopefuly it will be enough so that, by the time you have a daughter, you won't have to write her a letter that starts like this one.

I love you,
Mommy