He's six.

December 14. Friday.
Returning from some home visits to the elementary school where I work to see my administrators glued to the TV, almost reminiscent of 9/11. Others lingering, stunned to silence. Heads shaking back and forth. Hoping the growing numbers were inaccurate.
My kids, across town in their innocent, carefree existence . Safe.
I haven't opened a news story.
I did my best to ignore Facebook even as my thoughtful happy birthday notifications rolled in.
Still, as media sensationalizes it's unavoidable, front screen news.
Beautiful, precious. Blonde haired, blue eyed. Cute polka dot hat. Million dollar smile. 20.
And 6 brave protectors lost.
My emotions going into tidy compartments. Grief. Disbelief. Fear. Intense love and gratefulness.
They were all six and seven.
He's six.