Who among us has not loved a child? Our child? Grandchild? Niece, nephew, or neighbor?

The Sandy Hook massacre has impacted me viscerally. Far more than 9/11. Maybe it's because my granddaughter, who is the most precious thing in the world to me, is that age. I see her in the faces of those precious slain children and my heart screams in anguish and primal fear. Ancient superstitious terror.

I don't have it in me to comprehend that kind of loss. The Sandy Hook community will not recover from this until the last person with memory or connection is gone. Generations from now.

I spent much of Friday crying and have fought back the tears each waking hour since then. Of course, Sandy Hook was a major topic of conversation at work today. My coworkers had the same feelings. Mass shootings have become so common in this country that they scarcely register. We don't know the people. If happened far from our town. Et cetera. News for a day or two and then it melds in with the other mass shootings.

But the children. We know them. We love the little girl who draws a purple dragon for grandma and who insists on chicken and pasta when she spends the night.

The pundits keep asking, "Will this time be different?" It has to be for if it is not we are a doomed society.

Who among us has not loved a child? We are all Sandy Hook parents, grandparents, aunts, uncles, and neighbors and we all know it.

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