I’m Sorry I Can’t Help You

This post has not been proof read or edited. It has come from a place of pain and desperation. Please send out whatever prayers, vibes or wishes you believe in (or even if you don’t) into the universe. Things like this will never stop hurting and no child deserves this.

 

By now we’ve all seen the little boy, sat in the back of that ambulance, after being pulled from the air strikes. I’m sure there are few who don’t wish they could do something. I also know that some have to do what I am guilty of – briefly glancing and trying to move on or it will tear us apart.

But it’s inescapeable.

While sitting here at 11pm on a Friday night, an hour after debating having a melt down because my iPod wiped itself of 6 months worth of podcasts, I saw the moving footage of that little boy for the first time.

And I let it consume me.

We all wish we could do something. To take babies in our arms, our own or others, and whisper in their ear, is the most human thing in the world.

And none of us can do it.

The thing is, I became a writer for many reasons. Because I don’t know how to do anything else. Because life fascinates me.

Because, on some level, I always think I can change the world and help someone.

I can’t help that little boy.

I physically hurts that there is nothing I can do. I can’t take him in my arms as easily as I can my own 4-year-old asleep upstairs.

My mortality is limited. Even this is useless – I debated not writing it but I’m sure on some level I wanted myself to suffer the pain of it.

The pain that I can’t change the lives I want to. I can’t make sure that that poor little boy doesn’t feel alone.

I think times like these, especially how they effect mothers, reflect modern day motherhood. Even the most confident of us debate if we are giving our children enough, not in terms of things but in terms of the human essentials.

We forget what those basics are until we see someone who has nothing, and instinct tells us what they need to most.

A cuddle, to not be alone and reassured.

Also, our mortality as parents and our worse fear – that our children will be without us.

I’m not religious but I pray to whoever is out there – fate, God or otherwise – that all children are born equality. They have done nothing to deserve what they are sometimes given in life. I pray that he is looked after. No child should ever be alone.

I pray that one day, little man, I can help people like you. I’m sorry I do not have the talents that extend beyond this superficial keyboard and screen. I’m sorry that I can’t but I’m thinking of you.

None of us know you but we love you. I hope you feel that some day.

Universe, please keep him, and others like him, safe. Please put down your cameras and go to him. Please.

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