CEASEFIRE, PEACE AND MORE PEACE, PLEASE
I just returned from the grocery store. One of my favorite checkout guys was working so I got in his line. “How are you?” I asked, happy to see him. He always remembers my name and never gives me shit for always forgetting my coop membership card. He’s a kind, friendly person who always makes people feel good. “Well, I’m from Lewiston, so I’ve had better weeks,” he said. Oh my god…
He was used to saying this by now as everyone around here asks how you are and genuinely want to know. I sighed heavily and told him how sorry I am. He said extra stiffly that his family were all alright. I was so relieved to hear it and told him so. As I boxed my groceries he lamented at how preventable the tragedy was, etc. I paid for my groceries and started to cry despite how hard I was trying not to. I didn’t want to make this kind stranger uncomfortable with my tears, he’d had more than enough. I told him again how glad I was that his family were unharmed and looked him in the eye. He was not uncomfortable. I left and sobbed in my car. My dogs were in the back seat and suddenly very concerned. I reeled it in for their sake. At a loss for what to do I got out and went to the back, opened a loaf of bread and made a turkey sandwich on the tailgate of my car. I chewed and cried.
The tallies of dead in Gaza, the tallies of dead in Israel, Maine and all over the fucking United States of America… I’m not going to write a big long piece about what we should do or what genocide is or what terrorism means… What mental illness and stress need…There are so many people who are actually qualified already doing that, so please read what they have to say. Don’t bury your head in the sand. And balance. Love your people in your life extra hard. Take your weekend. But I beg you, let us all return Monday with a renewed sense of urgency that something must be done. It’s everyone’s responsibility. Try to displace the hopelessness of the situation with TRUST in the idea that as long as you start on the road to helping the answers will come to you. You will know what is right. Asking for help is ok. Bite off what you can handle. Cry. Laugh. Rest. Feel joy. Starting is our responsibility. The road may change or you may need to abandon one road for another, but that’s normal. You will make mistakes. It’s ok. Just start.
It’s tense here. We are on regional alert as the suspect in the Lewiston shooting is still at large. Everywhere in New England is close to Lewiston. We all lock our doors and check in with each other. So I’m checking in with you. I love you.
I read that the suspect was hearing voices and may have been suffering from mental illness. I'm not going to comment on that specifically.
I'm going to tell you that my sister Tracy and I have been discussing what to do about our mentally ill sister, Alta, recently. Alta has suffered from schizophrenia and multiple personalities for decades. For various reasons, the nursing home she has been in has been unable to force her to stay on the only medication that worked for her. I told my sister Tracy that I was worried that Alta might violently attack someone. We alerted the facility, and they "took it under advisement". And of course she *did* attack her roommate and try to kill her. Thank god she didn't. And thank god my sister died recently. I say that in kindness.
It's extremely hard to get help for people suffering from mental illness. I cannot tell you how hard. Unless you have had to work with the system, you can't fathom it. And many times, the people in the system are actually trying to help.
I understand the absolute tragedy of what has happened, but there is likely a long, complex paperwork trail behind it. I hope people have enough compassion to see the full picture. Nothing is ever black and white.
I feel terrible for the families of those affected by this shooting. And for everyone hurting in Gaza and Israel, too.
My daughter's friend lives in Lewiston and this morning she said her baby needed formula and she didn't know if the grocery stores were open or if it was even safe to go out to get it. She lives right near the bowling alley. I also sat and sobbed. This woman is the little girl who called me at work when my daughter broke her wrist after her brakes went out on her bicycle and rode into the side of a parked truck. I could hear her little voice saying that she first she called an ambulance, then she called her grandma, then she called me. And now this woman is sheltering in place with her new husband and their children and wondering if she can get formula for her baby. Please, stop. We need peace.