The day after the shooting on MSU's campus, I had a mind-blowing conversation with my daughter, Alie.
"Do you want to come home," I text her, "since they've canceled classes?"
"Yes," she responds, "but I want to get my stuff first."
She's texting from her dorm room where all her stuff should be, so I'm confused by that statement. I followed up with, "What stuff?"
"My computer, iPad, and backpack. They're still in the Union, and the police wouldn't let us back in yet."
Wait, wait, wait! What? The shooter was at the Union. She never mentioned SHE was in there too.
I give up on this texting business and instead call her. "Were you IN the Union?" I can't believe I'm even asking this question, but I'm really in disbelief when she says yes. "Why on earth didn't you tell me?" I ask.
"I didn't want to worry you," she said calmly. I could only scratch my head at the insanity of this response. "When we realized there was a shooter right next to us," she continued, "we left everything to run out the door."
In retrospect, I think the lack of details she provided in the moment was her way of coping with her worries, fear, and sorrow.
Now that we're 6 months out, life seems back to normal until something makes a loud pop or bang near her.
Her kind and gentle soul will also be impacted by those nearby gun shots.
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