Today in my home state of Connecticut there was a school shooting in an public school for K-4. I wrote this in my journal and thought I'd share.

What can be said to a grieving mother? A father? A friend? Co-worker? A family member? There are times in our lives that words to no amount.

I can't imagine walking into school one day and my body being carried out only hours later. Even more, I can't imagine seeing my best friend's eyes go unseeing. I can't imagine seeing my teacher- or anyone laying in a pool of blood.

What I see is a mother waiting by a school bus stop for her child and them not getting off. I see a child being told how courageous her parent was. I'd rather have a living, cowardly parent than a brave, dead one.

I think of Charles Dickens' A Christmas Carol with the season close. When Scrooge asks the Ghost of Christmas Present what will happen to Tiny Tim and the ghost foretells an empty seat.

I'm imagining all the empty chairs at the dinner tables tonight.

Christmas is arriving and is it going to be celebrated?

It was an elementary school. It taught kindergarten through fourth grade. They didn't even have a chance at life.