The difference? This time, I really didn't want to send him

Early this morning, as he's done dozens of times before, Gerald got up to drive Isaiah to the airport. And just like dozens of times before, Isaiah's destination was Las Vegas. And just like dozens of times before, I smiled, waved goodbye and said, "I love you. Be safe."

The difference? This time, I really didn't want to send him.

I'm scared, really scared.

Isaiah travels all over the world for his job as a senior on-site tech specialist for Lanyon/Cvent. In the past three years, he's visited 13 countries on five different continents. He's gone places I'll likely never go, and he's gone places I'll definitely go because he tells me I "have to!" I've never been scared to send him off before, only excited for his opportunity to see and experience so much at such a young age.

Vegas is a popular city for events, and Isaiah spends roughly six weeks there over the course of a year, and about 75% of the time, he stays at Mandalay Bay. He refers to it as his "home away from home." Two weeks ago, when I awoke to the tragic news of yet another mass shooting, this time near the Mandalay Bay hotel in Las Vegas, for a split second my heart sank. Fully awake, I calmed myself with the words, "Breathe, Terrianne. Take a breath. At this very moment, Isaiah is safely on a plane to Lisbon, Portugal."

But it so easily could have been otherwise. He could have been in Vegas that week. He could have been staying at Mandalay Bay. Often, he and his coworkers go out in the evening, sometimes to attend events in the city they're visiting. Including concerts.

He so easily could have been there, his precious, 26-year-old life ended in a split second, and my life forever shattered. All of those killed that night had mothers whose hearts are now broken. My own heart breaks for them. I can't even imagine. 

Afterward, we were told by some that we shouldn't talk about why this keeps happening, that "now is not the time." Instead, we should send "thoughts and prayers." And local folks should donate blood. Well, sure. Yes, of course. I am both a thinking person and a praying person. I'm also a lifelong blood donor. So yes, I appreciate the value of thoughts and prayers and blood donations. I also know that none of that will do a single thing to keep these senseless tragedies from happening again and again and again.

So please don't tell me "now is not the time" to talk about how to fix this mess. If now isn't the time, then when?

To that end, may I address our sitting president for just a moment.

Mr. President:

It's no secret, I'm not a fan. I didn't vote for you, and I was devastated that you somehow managed to get elected. The morning after that fateful day, a friend posted that this was the worse thing Christians have done since the Crusades. I concur.

That said, I hoped that a miracle might occur, and this office might change you, lift you, move you to a point where you might see past yourself enough to work for the greater good of our country and the world. That has not happened. Instead, you are so bored with your job as Commander-in-Chief that you spend your time awake in the middle of the night, tweeting, like a hormone-raging teenager, syntactically-incorrect rhetoric spewed against anyone who opposes you; goodness, my 17-year-old kid has more maturity and class.

But there's still time. Because though it feels like an eternity since January 20th, in fact, it's only been nine months. That means you still have three years, three months left in office, plenty of time to prove me wrong.

Surprise me! Do something right. If you truly wish to "make America great," accomplish something past presidents have not yet been able to. Stand up to the NRA, and figure out a way to get sensible gun legislation through Congress.

Lives literally depend on it.

Yours truly,
A mom, who's terrified to send her baby off to work in Las Vegas today