Our cosy little world was shocked last night by the news that two young children have been murdered by their father in our block of flats, just a few doors along from where we live. The Boy and I have been knocked sideways by the tragic news. Such a terrible story and such an awful thing to have happened. My heart absolutely goes out to the mother of the children, and the rest of the family and their friends.
I picked up an Evening Standard on the way home from work last night and it was on the front page. I thought I recognised the two children pictured and as my eyes worked their way down the copy I realised I knew them from our block of flats. Two quiet, polite children who we saw playing in the square, or who shared lift journeys with us. I feel so sad that they have met such a brutal and senseless end, when they should have had their whole lives stretching ahead of them.
I can never understand stories like this, what drives a parent to kill their children as a way of wounding an ex-parter... I can't comprehend how bad things must be to be driven to these dark depths of desperation. How both parents begin to deal with what's happened and move on is beyond my comprehension.
I shed some tears last night at this seemingly meaningless destruction of life, and the Boy woke in the early hours and found it very difficult to settle again. It's so far away from our world we can't begin to contain it - we are so desperate to begin a family and watch our children learn and grow. For these children that time is over, and all their families can do is remember and mourn.