On the way to my English class with Brother Samuelson, I ran into my brother in law. He asked if I knew what was going on. I was somewhere between confused and nervous and worried about being late to class. I blurted out everything I knew, which wasn't much and almost ran to class.
When I got there it was solemn. And Brother Samuelson didn't talk about literature that day. He talked about our country. He talked about our freedoms. He reminded us to pray for our government, for our country and especially for the people affected by the tragedy.
Everyone on the campus of BYU-Idaho kind of wandered around in a daze that day. The crowds around the TVs in the MC were bigger than I had ever seen them.
It literally took days for me to truly understand exactly what had happened. I honestly didn't want to know. I wanted to go home and seclude myself in my safe little apartment and not think about the horrors happening across the country. And so I ignored it for as long as I could. I didn't want to mourn. I didn't want to fear. And so I didn't.
I don't remember the day that I finally accepted it. I think a little part of me still doesn't want to. But when I drive by a field full of flags, I get choked up. There are a lot of flags. And for a moment, it is more clear to me than ever before.
*picture taken from here.