I currently live in the city of Aurora, Colorado. It has a reputation for being a bit impoverished (by Denver standards) in some areas and not a real great place to live. I don't mind it - there's a lot of diversity here and offers a great bang-for-your-buck. Up until 7/20/2012, most people in the US didn't know much about Aurora. That all changed overnight with a midnight movie showing.
I remember the Columbine shooting in 1999. I remember where I was when I heard about it - I was on a bus returning from a track meet where I beat my P.R. in the 1600m race. The school was about 70 miles from me, but it seemed like it was in a different country. I didn't feel very phased by it. I remember singing Amazing Grace over the intercom at my high school in memory of those who were killed. I saw classmates shed tears, but it still didn't really phase me much.
Fast forward 13 years...
I loved the Century 16 theater in Aurora. Sure it was a bit sketchy, the decor was a bit dated, and the floors were sticky. But it had the cheapest tickets in town, was so close to my house, and was never very crowded - even on opening night. I went there to see movies often. I was planning on seeing the new Batman movie there as well.
I stepped onto the elevator on Friday morning with a coworker who quickly asked me if I had heard about the shooting.
"What shooting?" I asked. After hearing a quick summary of what had happened, I wondered if that was my theater. I got to my desk and pulled up the local news online. There, on the front page of the 9news website (and virtually every other news source I checked) was a photo of the familiar facade of the Century 16 theater. My theater.
I knew it so well. I could close my eyes and transport myself there. I could look down and see the scattered kernels of popcorn, feel the ridges of the floor beneath my feet, see the patterns in the carpet, see the sconces that lit up the walls, feel the arm rests that were a little bit too high for my comfort, see the layout of the various theater rooms I had been in, and picture the entries and exits. Then I could see the people around me. Then I could see the emergency door opening and a man lifting a gun and firing into the crowd.
I felt sick. I couldn't focus on work. All I could do was constant refresh my Facebook news feed to check and see if all my friends were okay. Some hadn't posted since June. June! I felt even more sick. Some friends began posting pictures of people in hospitals, talking about others who got out safely or went to the wrong theater by mistake.
It was hell. That whole day was absolute hell. I will never forget it. Not a single day has passed since then that I haven't thought about it.
I think it has been one of the biggest life changing events I've ever experienced, and not in a way that I really expected. My conscious, intellectual brain knows that there was nothing I could do to have helped the victims at the scene of the shooting, nor could I have known about it before hand or prevented it. Still, I've felt an unreasonable amount of guilt and depression over the whole thing because I wish with every fiber of my being that I could have been there to tackle the shooter or be a distraction so that more people could have gotten out alive. I would have gladly traded places with any of the victims so they could go on to live a happy, fruitful life. It’s one of those cases where I have to just admit that Heavenly Father knew what was going to happen and for those victims that lost their lives, their time on Earth was over. My intellectual, thinking brain knows these things, but I still felt a degree of what would probably be best described as survivor guilt. I don’t know if it was legitimate survivor guilt because I wasn't there, but Cinema 16 was my theater. It was the one I always went to when I wanted to see a movie. It could have been me there, but it wasn't.
Part of what upsets me about this is it kind of made me
realize how little I seem to value my own life.
It’s not that I’m seeking to die or am suicidal or anything, but given
the choice between saving my own life or the lives of strangers or people I
care about, I find myself being more concerned about their well-being. Is that a bad thing? Perhaps not, but it could be if it means that
when I look at my own future, I see it as being mostly self-serving, shallow,
or filled with solitude and despair.
That’s a pretty bleak picture, but trying to reconcile my SSA with life
goals and a desire to be righteous and do what Heavenly Father wants me to do,
it’s hard to see any future other than one of total celibacy and
loneliness. That is what seems to have
me really, really depressed. When I look
at a future like that, it starts to seem more and more tragic that the people
who were killed in the theater shooting probably had a brighter future than
that – one filled with family, children, etc.
I had a hard time shaking this feeling of being generally down on myself, so I decided I needed to pay a visit to the temporary memorial setup across from the theater. I went Wednesday evening the next week. I bought some flowers, put on some big sunglasses, went out there, and just let out all of my grief. I couldn't understand how so many people could have such blank expressions while it took all my self control to not break down on the spot. I pretty much never cry or even get watery-eyed, but I've shed quite a few tears over this whole incident. I am really surprised by that. I used to think that perhaps there was something wrong with me because I seem to be exceptionally unemotional. I always felt more emotionally dead than anything, but this showed me that I definitely can be moved by feelings.
As I stood there at the memorial, surrounded by people who
had come to pay respects or grieve over the friends they had lost, I started to
think about the covenant we make at baptism.
The scripture in Mosiah 18:9 came to mind:
Yea, and are awilling to mourn with those that bmourn; yea,
and comfort those that stand in need of comfort, and to stand ascwitnesses of God at all times and in
all things, and in all places that ye may be in, even until death, that ye may
be redeemed of God, and be numbered with those of the dfirst resurrection, that ye may
have eternal life—
The phrase “mourn with those that mourn” came to mind,
because that was exactly what I was doing.
I was feeling a degree of the pain that was felt by those who had lost
friends or family in the shooting. I was
truly mourning with those that mourned.
I had always assumed that scripture meant all the “mourners” were
members of the Church, but they aren't.
It’s a commitment or desire to mourn with all people who mourn,
regardless of their faith. It’s a
commitment to recognize their pain, their suffering, and join with them so that
they don’t feel so alone, hopeless, or full of despair and bitterness. To the extent possible, we commit to doing
what we can to bring them comfort, even if we can’t bring their loved ones
back. In that moment, I realized I
wanted nothing more than to just hug them, and comfort them as they let out
their tears, but I couldn't. I didn't know any of the victims, nor their friends or family. I felt so completely and utterly powerless to
do anything. It was hell for me, but a different kind of hell. Knowing that there were people out there who stood in need of comfort and I couldn't get to them because I didn't even know who they were broke my heart.
I decided that the best course of action, and really the
most reasonable one, would be to lose myself in service and strive to
perpetuate the love that was being poured out by the entire community. I dug into my pockets (well, my bank account)
and made a donation to the victims of the shooting, and determined to be more
diligent in my service of others.
If we could mark this event as a significant point in our
lives where we make a determined effort to change, be more selfless, and truly
lose our lives in the service of others, then the loss of those twelve lives wouldn't be in vain. They weren't killed
so that the community could come together.
They were killed for the sake of killing and spreading hate, pain,
suffering, and despair. We need to rise
above that. We can’t let ourselves take
this hate that was directed at us and pass it along to others through defiance,
distrust, and despair. We need to become
more and more like Christ and serve others. We need to let each other know how
much we care. Even if we can’t tell
someone that we love them, we can at least let it be known through our
actions. We can let our actions speak
louder than the words we might not be able to speak.
As I think about what Jesus would do in a time like this, I
can obviously see that he would have laid his life down to protect those around
him. He offered the ultimate sacrifice
for our sins as well as our Earthly sufferings.
There is no suffering that we may experience that He hasn't experienced
in full and at a much, much deeper level.
He understands our pain and suffering perfectly. He is the only true healer, so if we want to
be healed from the pains and wounds this senseless shooting may have caused, we
need to make sure that Christ’s life, atonement, and teachings are at the
center of it.
These thoughts have really helped me get over the feelings of guilt I felt because I wasn't at the theater and couldn't help. I think my grieving is over (well,
the more depressing aspects of it are, at least). I can at least look forward to being able to
be a friend to those in need, a strong
back when someone needs help carrying burden, or perhaps a shoulder to cry on
and an open ear when nobody else will listen.
There’s a whole world out there that needs a whole lot more love to be
shared, why shouldn't I be one to offer that help as best as I can?
