A Month Ago

Photo taken in May 2014

The other day, my mother said, "It's hard to believe it's not even a month since the killings took place. Life goes on and no one thinks about it anymore."

I told her I think about that Sunday morning in April every day.

Every morning, when I step up to the access door in the garage to take out the bird feeders, before I unlock the door, I look out the window. 

I look around. 

Just to see what, and who, I can see. If there's anything, or anyone, to see. 

I've never done that before. It never occurred to me before mid-April 2020 that I had to look around first before I unlocked and opened a door here in rural Nova Scotia. 

Sure, life goes on. I still walk every morning. But to say no one thinks about those killings -- 22 people killed by one man on a rage-and-alcohol-fuelled rampage -- isn't accurate. Many of us are thinking about it, especially those even closer to the devastated communities than I am. And it wasn't just that it happened close to home; my personal connection is simply being a morning walker like one of the victims. 

I don't look out the window every morning and think, "That could be me" or even "That could've been me" but still, my actions are affected. I pause and look around before stepping outside my home. 

When you think of how minuscule the impact of that rampage is on my life, it makes you realize how even the smallest trauma can affect us and change our lives. So imagine how great trauma -- like a shooting or a rape or fighting in a war -- impacts people for the rest of their lives. We worry about jobs and the economy but what we really should be worrying about is health and safety. 

We need to take better care of each other on a community level. More listening, more accepting, more acknowledgement, more resources. Less "pooh poohing", less "there's nothing we can do", less "sweeping under the rug". 

If there's one thing this pandemic has shown us, as humans, we need to take care of each other. That's our job as humans, as citizens, as neighbours. The common good as a guiding principle. 

If there's one thing the killing rampage has shown us, as a country and as a community, we need to take the long-term effects of trauma more seriously, whether we're talking the PTSD of a member of the military or the PTSD of an assault victim. If we take care of each other, we can heal together. 

That's our real job: taking care of each other.