Every Monday through Friday for the two years and seven weeks we’ve been doing this family-oriented, interweb-based sports column – that’s 555 consecutive work days gang – we have spilled a lot of bandwidth. We sometimes write multiple paragraphs when a single sentence could have sufficed. So it goes.
This morning we don’t have words for the feelings of the weekend. There is real evil out there and we are too frequently reminded of it and forced to deal with the aftermath.
There’s also real beauty – like the glow in a 5-year-old’s face at his morning chocolate milk or the smile and head tilt of a 2-year-old wearing her favorite dress and saying, “I’m soooo cute,” because she’s heard it a thousand times over from her father.
There’s no way to know the tragedy that fell on Newtown this weekend. There is only sympathy and prayer.
And the futile hope that this will be the last time we see evil’s all-too-familiar fingerprints.