*Disclaimer: This is not a normal "hey, I've been gone for a while, here are some jokes and a fun thing to think about" sort of post. You have been warned*
For the child who went to school and will never come home: we mourn.
For the mother who stares at the bed that didn't get made that morning, who must now plan it's occupant's funeral: we mourn.
For the father who would give anything to catch his daughter sneaking out the window one more time: we mourn.
For the little brothers and sisters who now have to navigate this terrifying world without their idol to blaze the way for them: we mourn.
For the older siblings who now must exist without the first child they helped raise: we mourn.
For the dog who keeps looking out the front window at 4:15, waiting for his human: we mourn.
For the teacher who took the bullet and still lost their students: we mourn.
For the teacher who was out sick and now feels that they sent a substitute to die in their stead: we mourn.
For the girl who will never again hug her first love: we mourn.
For the boy who just lost the one friend he'd come out to: we mourn.
For the choir director who is forever missing their singers: we mourn.
For the cafeteria worker who remembers each day why she doesn't need to prepare that serving of gluten free food anymore: we mourn.
For the young artist who can't use red paint without smelling the blood: we mourn.
For the Columbine survivor who prayed they'd never have to mentor in this way: we mourn.
For the survivor who lives in a world where live tweeting a massacre is possible: we mourn.
For the children who will never again enjoy fireworks: we mourn.
For the grandparent who scours the internet for bullet-proof backpacks: we mourn.
For the new teacher wondering if they're ready to lay down their life for children they haven't met yet: we mourn.
For the student teachers now changing their major because they're afraid the answer is "no": we mourn.
For the mother who weeps in the morning drop off line: we mourn.
For the father who stares at the picture on his desk and prays his kid isn't next (because he knows there will be a next): we mourn.
For the first grader who knows what to do in an active shooter situation: we mourn.
For the nation that has made all of this a necessity: we weep.
For a gun lobby that has prioritized sales over children at school: we rage.
For a congress that offers empty condolences as they accept NRA donations: we rise up.
For a government that remains silent as we cry out for them to do something: we vote.
For a president who reminded us of the "very fine people on both sides": time's up.