By Geri Dreiling

It is early morning, the day after the Connecticut school shooting. I haven’t yet gathered the latest news. I dread reading the updates and seeing the photos of the young victims in the happier moments of their tragically short lives, but I know that eventually I will, feeling that I must somehow bear witness to the event rather than turn my back on it.

And my heart will break.

I have been fortunate in this life. I haven’t lost a child — but it is a primal fear wound tightly into my parental DNA. As a reporter, I attended a funeral for a child who died from violence. As a high school student, my 12-year-old cousin died in an accident. The small coffins, tearful classmates sitting in the pews — some of them clutching stuffed animals — and the devastated, bewildered parents who are still wondering what happened, how it could have happened, and who are hoping it is just a bad dream, are memories one does not forget.

This is a blog about second chances and finding happiness. But not everyone gets a second chance. And sorrow is also part of life’s equation. Yet, I also feel strongly that the mindless gun violence needs to stop.

The blog post I had originally planned will need to wait.