When I was younger, before I had kids, my response to tragic events was to go numb, immerse myself in a protective bubble of denial and go about my life. I wasn’t callous or uncaring. In fact, these events affected me so deeply that the only way I could function was to find a way to bury my emotions until I was ready to dig them up again.

But, bubbles tend to be weak. And, I have other feelings to shield aside from my own. I have two children, who, thus far, have no idea about mass shootings. I am facing the truth of this no longer being a mystery. My oldest will be practicing lock-down drills in his school this week. How much will he learn? I don’t know. But, he will have questions. Questions pricking holes through the bubble. Continue reading →