I consider myself a positive, resilient person, but as I sit – trying to craft this week’s blog post – my heart is heavy and my mind cannot help returning to the horrors of this past weekend. To Orlando.
I’ve been heartsick and disgusted, but I am not angry. Not yet. Instead, I’m just sad. Sad that this kind of confusion exists in the world. Sad that so many people were cut down in their prime. Sad at the number of kudos I’ve seen on the internet, congratulating the gunman for carrying out such a gruesome and violent crime.
I’ve written plenty in the past about occasions that call for wine as a celebration, but until today I’ve not addressed one in particular. Celebrating the life of someone who has passed away. Someone who has been taken from this world suddenly, and without mercy or remorse. After Sunday, there are 49 such people to celebrate.
Please don’t misunderstand – I’m not being morose – these people deserve to be celebrated. Toast to the mother who went out dancing with her son. The partners in business and in life who died together because they were somewhere on the wrong night. The aspiring nurse, firefighter, dancer…they deserve a glass raised to them. Toast to life, yes. Toast to the lives they never had, or were in the middle of living. Toast to the families and friends who mourn their losses. Toast to each other and pray this never happens again. Toast to Orlando.