I grew up in Connecticut, but was teaching at an elementary school in Georgia when a co-worker told me that kindergarten children and teachers were shot in Connecticut. My great niece was in kindergarten in Connecticut. I ran to my computer, hoping that CNN would tell me what school it was, fearing the worst. My sister’s darling granddaughter was not in Newtown, but I can still remember the terror.
I have seen the terror in little ones who have active shooter drills. I told them it was a game; we were just practicing for if there’s a bad guy.
Since my husband died, I have been dating a nice man whose father was shot to death. Later, his brother took his life with a gun. Since that time, he has had trouble loving people, which may be a defense mechanism, because his mother also died from alcoholism. How much can people take of people dying on them before they won’t let themselves become attached to others? Does he hoard things because things can’t die on you or just leave?