The memorial

I was so upset by the deadly school shootings in Connecticut. I felt like I couldn't even absorb what happened because it was Sawyer's birthday and I was busy baking cakes and finishing up preparations for his party the next day.

I hugged him extra and tried to be thankful instead of exasperated when he made a mess somewhere I had just cleaned or wanted to help stir his birthday cake.



I thought of all the parents who would just be grateful to have their child making a mess again, all the people who would never get another birthday to celebrate and I was just heartbroken. It's impossible to understand why things like this happen, but a part of me felt guilty for celebrating when so many others were mourning.

Newtown is not somewhere I'm familiar with, but it's just a couple towns over from where we lived in Connecticut. Both of our old papers covered it heavily.

And having taught in an elementary school and still considering it, I was horrified at the thought of someone barging in and opening fire on such innocent sitting ducks. I could imagine the fear and confusion, and my mind ran through what I would've tried to do in my classroom.

I lit candles in our window the night of the shootings, as many around my neighborhood did. 



The week after the shootings, I said prayers for the families every time I read a story at work or had to work on the photos of funerals of little boys that reminded me of Sawyer. I decided to throw together our annual charity bake sale at work because I wanted to do something good with my grief.

Several churches planned memorial services, and I desperately wanted to go. I wasn't sure Sawyer would stay quiet and still, but part of me felt like it was important to take him, too. On a rainy, cold night, I took a break from baking bread for the bake sale for the memorial.



We sat in a Jewish temple while leaders from all faiths remembered those who were killed and talked about the importance of faith, community and love. It was not exactly what I expected, but it had some very nice parts. The woman who sat beside us helped keep Sawyer entertained when he got bored (pretty much the whole two hours of the service). She and I both cried when they played the slideshow of the students and teachers who died.



She encouraged us to go up and light candles for the 26 victims along with other families and children. Two of my colleagues from the paper were covering the event, and our great photographer Nelson Kepley took this shot of Sawyer and me lighting candles.



It was a small thing, but I know I will never forget some of the faces of those 26 people who were slain. My mom made a donation in our names to the Sandy Hook fund. And I am planning to send the snowflakes from Sawyer's birthday party to the group that wants to decorate the new school where the other students will return in January.

My prayers and heart will forever go out to those families whose sweet children and loved ones were taken from them way too soon.