In response to the Sandy Hook shooting.

I work at a children's store (The Land of Nod, to be exact) and I worked all weekend. When I was working the cash register on Friday, a woman came in with her son. As he played around with all the over priced toys we offer, she stood back smiling. My manager was also at the counter with me and she leaned over and said "It's so nice that you have a place to play, here" and my boss said "Yea, the kids love it" And she was just silent for a moment than looked over at her son-still smiling- and said "After what happened today... it's just nice to have this moment." I guess that's when it became real to me. My 35 year old, aggressive looking, manager and a stranger were just staring at this kid enjoy life. He didn't know what had happened, all he knew what that he had a toy truck and he was happy. Sometimes that's all you need. As the woman left, my manager (also a father of two beautiful little ones) looked over at me and said "I don't want to even begin to imagine what those parents feel like. For the life of me, I have to stay away from that thought" He than started his walk to the back to start counting the reserve.
As for me, not being a parent but, way to empathetic to even know how to handle it, couldn't stay away from that thought when I got home at 10pm. I sat in my bed reading things on the Internet about how parents would have to bury their kids over Christmas and saying that this has to be the final straw in finally getting to change our gun control laws.
Then on Sunday, before I left for another day at work, I saw president Obama's speech. When he named all the children, and teachers, and addressed our country- that's when I finally lost it. I couldn't help but shed a tear (or a couple dozen tears) for those that had to deal with the pain that seemed so far away from me.
I know that when I have kids of my own, I'll understand more why my mom wanted me to stay home from work and just be with her. Or why on Friday my dad called me kiddo again (after 9 years) and told me he loved me as I walked out the door. But, right now, even the possibility of having to ever feel that, was terrifying enough.