Today I drank her in, her eyes, her hair, I folded her (cold) hands in my own in the dark of her bedroom and thought of those twenty (twenty, twenty, twenty...) mothers. Empty hands. I contemplate them with my own hands shaking.
I'm not a champion of any simple one-phrase cause or solution for this type of violence, except perhaps that like begets like, and we live in a post-Columbine world. The seeds are planted, and we water them with every headline.
I will say that if we wish to limit the scope of mass gun violence, banning combat rifles for non-military use is a good place to start. Perhaps limiting the scope will eventually limit the frequency. And it's not too early to talk about this. It's not too early to write to your representatives in Congress. It's not too early to write an initiative in your state. No one has the right to bear all possible arms. Not at this cost.
There is a wide wound in my heart, and if I put my ear to it I can hear the echo of a wild and howling grief. It's the same echo we all hear when our hearts are pulled open by our firstborn. It says "If I lose you, I will die."
From my heart, I wish the families of Sandy Hook the sorowfull loveing magic of time. I wish them peace, when they are ready for it to find them.