Things have been tough these past few weeks. Last week the tragedy at Virginia was unbelievable. I tried to break away from the media saturation of the killings but I couldn’t help myself, I read every article I came across on the Internet. I’m not sure why I felt as if I needed to know more than the fact that thirty-three people died unnecessarily.

Then a few days ago, I received an email about how America has always had a history of tragic killings. The email described the killing of 350 Native Americans by the U.S. Cavalry. After giving a brief explanation of the slaughter at Wounded Knee Creek, the author of the original email then stated, “My intention is not to downplay the horror of what has happened this week in any way. But we have a 500-year history of mass shootings on American soil, and let's not forget it.” It’s a somber thought to think of how many people have died by evil motivations.

In addition to these readings, my grandmother has become ill and is not expected to live much longer. Needless to say I feel as if a dark cloud has drifted over my head. Death is a sad part of life, probably more so for the living. I know I’m going to miss my grandmother when she passes but I take comfort knowing that she has lived a long life and given me some wonderful memories. My best memory is of Christmas celebrations when our whole family would gather at my grandparent’s house. There were presents, laughter, food and toys from wall to wall. When I was a child, my Grandfather used to wink and hesitate to prolong my anticipation, before handing me a big, shiny Christmas present. I’ve forgotten what the presents were but I’ll never forget those times. I’m grateful for these memories, but it is a shame that the families of the slain students will not be able to experience these types of special moments. Everyone should have these memories in their heart; it gives life meaning!

I have to admit that I struggled to write this entry. At first I wanted to ask questions and respond with respect to these events, but I realized I don’t have the insight or wisdom to understand the meaning of these deaths. The only thing I can do is refer to what inspires me and expresses my emotions – and that is art! Above is a painting by Pablo Picasso and the painting says it all for me.

With gratitude,
pablo