As I pulled into my driveway and saw the box sitting on my front stoop, I actually yelped and got really excited. I rushed to the front door from my car, grabbed the box and brought it inside. I sat down on the kitchen floor, ripped it open and stared into a very large box- filled to the brim with t-shirts.
And then I started to cry.
I pulled out 26 individually wrapped t-shirts. 26 separate reminders of 26 different lives that we, as a nation, lost on December 14th. 26 beautiful souls that had so much more to do on this Earth.
As I pulled each shirt out of the box, I found myself talking to the person that each one bore the name of. I'm not going to tell you what we talked about. That's between us. But I couldn't help myself. I had so much to say to them.
I haven't had a physical reminder of just how many 26 really is since the night we all individually lit 26 candles on Christmas Eve as a community.
26 is just too many. And my heart hurts today at the reminder.