By Natasha Sharma
The first thing I saw was his feet. Tiny and limp, encased in familiar looking dark blue Velcro-strap shoes. Much like the dark blue Velcro-strap shoes I struggle to get onto my 2-year old son’s feet every day. Then I saw his little legs. I had just sat down for a coffee break. As I finally registered that what I was looking at on the cover page of Metro Toronto was a policeman carrying a drowned toddler on a beach, I experienced a jolt. Probably like most of the world when they saw the same image. I quickly put the paper down. Then I threw it in the trash so I wouldn’t be tempted to read it. As a Psychotherapist, I’m well in tune with what can impact me emotionally on a personal level, and I had clients to continue seeing after my short break for whom I needed to be clear headed and unaffected.