I saw the President cry yesterday.
One of the most powerful men in the world wept. On national TV. In front of God and everybody.
I watched him wipe away a tear of sorrow, tears of frustration and tears of anger. Tears of mourning as he, once again, remembered the little kids–kindergartners–who were massacred by a man with a gun in Sandy Hook. You can see photos of their beautiful faces, and those of their brave teachers, here.
Go ahead and look at them. I’ll wait for you.
See their smiles with missing teeth, their dimples, their smirks and their headbands. See their birthday candles, itty bitty sneakers, temporary tattoos and baseball caps. They are frozen in time as children. They won’t get a chance to become the amazing young women and young men that they could have been.
That is a vast sadness. A sadness that chokes you if can bear to think about it.
I’m glad that the President cried. Everyone should be able to cry. Men, even powerful men, need to cry. And it’s okay. No, it’s more than okay. It’s what humans do when they are feeling sad, frustrated and angry.
The President asked us to feel those feelings with him. Of course he cried. I cried, too.