There are no words. I worked from home on Friday, so I had the television on and learned about the shooting in Sandy Hook very early in the day. Alone in my house, with my daughter in a bright happy daycare, I watched and listened. I cried in the shower, thinking of my storage closet with the gifts from Santa waiting to be wrapped and put under the tree. Realizing that those poor parents probably had the same stash.
I can't and won't write more on it. Whatever I start to write sounds trite. But this morning, as my healthy and happy daughter sat in my warm lap, on my bed for 10 minutes watching morning cartoons, I didn't want to interrupt these few minutes of peace to go about with the rest of our morning routine. Her sweet smelling hair, the feel of her chubby belly under my arm, the softness of her cheek against my neck. I appreciate these more than ever, and I promise that I will remember to appreciate her, always.