You might have heard that the world was supposed to end today. As far as I'm concerned, last Friday seemed much more like the end of the world. I can't tell you how many times in the past week I started a blog post and then deleted it, too heavy of heart and too angry and too despairing to finish. Through tears I wrote about children and parents and teachers; with rage I wrote about guns and gunmen; each time I hit the delete button instead of the save button.
So instead, today I will wish Steph the happiest of happy birthdays—Sweet Sixteen, if you can believe it! And I will celebrate the solstice, knowing that the days are getting longer again. And, beyond that, I will just hope that this "new cycle" on the Mayan calendar will be one of peace.