Matty is six. The thought keeps repeating in my mind, over and over, like a track on repeat.

I just can’t fathom how the families of those beautiful children from Sandy Hook Elementary School are feeling. I’ve seen photos and their pain is gut wrenching.

My baby boy is six. The idea of not having him to hold and chat to and laugh with is just abhorrent. The thought makes my tummy turn and my eyes water and my heart race. He is such a light in my life, a perfect gift. I *need* him here with me so he can run at me with full force, landing in my arms, nuzzling into my cheek and kissing my eyes and nose. I *need* him to hold and tickle and cover with kisses.

Oh my god. Those poor poor poor families who have had their precious babies taken from them so cruelly. I think I would find it hard to live. So much of everything in my life is centred around my children and their joy and the joy I feel because of the gift they are. I just can’t imagine it, and it makes my heart scream at this awful tragedy and all the tragedies that occur that involve the innocent lives of precious children.

I hold my babies a little tighter – their bodies and in my mind – the precious gifts that they are.