Searching for answers after Orlando shooting

I wrote a few columns this week before the one you’re reading now.

I tried to write through my feelings about the horrific shooting at Pulse nightclub in Orlando — the who, the what, the why of it all. But none of it was fit to print.

Each draft attempted to find some resolution. That’s in my nature. When there is conflict or strife, I look for the silver lining or quickly attempt to fix what’s broken.

In this case, I am not there yet. I am having a lot of feelings and thoughts about it all, and yet I am still speechless.

So instead of speaking, I’ve tried to listen. I am hearing the thoughts of others, the laments of my gay friends who fear for their well-being in society.

Reading articles that give dimension to the lives lost with photos and biographies. Reading news snippets about the killer and clues that might explain how any of this became possible. I am reading the reflections of my pastor, who wisely reminded our church that we must be active in prayer and show love to our LGBTQ brothers and sisters, serving them both in word and deed.

Everything I am digesting attempts to shape and contextualize what happened, but still I cannot make good sense.

My husband said it like this: it’s hard because it’s hard. You can’t just talk through this once and wrap it up with a bow, because that would mean it was an easy thing to understand, to explain, and to reckon with. It isn’t. That’s all I can say for sure right now. This, the worst single-shooter mass murder in American history, is hard.

I wonder, what if one of my friends happened to be in Orlando that night? What if one of them had been at Pulse? It’s the summertime — my siblings were at Disney World during the day and this mass shooting happened that same night. It’s relatively easy to think that someone I know and love could have been lost like one of the 49 killed at Pulse.

I had an existential moment of panic on Sunday night. I didn’t connect it to the fact that I had just learned about the shooting early that day, but now I believe it is related. I began to think about the brevity of life. Rather than considering it through a calm, faithful lens, I considered it through one of panic. I felt it was so unfair that something as precious and beautiful as life could end with an unjust abruptness. My chest tightened and my heart raced. I tried to breathe and relax, but it took a while before I felt safe and calm enough to sleep.

Where do we get answers now? When will things start to seem clear again? When will I stop remembering previous mass shootings? After Aurora, I was nervous in movie theaters for months and months. Then I forgot to be nervous. When will I forget to fear again? And should I ever forget? I am actually asking. I have no answers today.

This story was originally published June 15, 2016 at 3:11 PM with the headline "Searching for answers after Orlando shooting."