I came into the office this morning with my column, for the most part, written out in my head. I was awake early writing in my thoughts, and was eager to sit at my desk and put the words down. That was, until, I received an email that would change the course of my day.

Once again, I sit here in disbelief and heartbreak after the news came through of a shooting in Grandview that took the life of a 14-year-old teenager. A boy, slightly older than my own, who will never have the chance to step foot through Grandview High School as a freshman, won’t be able to ask anyone to prom, and won’t see the remake of The Lion King next month. Gun violence took everything from this boy, from his family, and it makes me sick.

It’s getting tougher and tougher to put my personal feelings aside, stick on my press badge and write these stories. I’m a person before I’m a journalist, and the human side of me types through tears more often than I care to admit.

I’ve written this before. I’ve pleaded and begged and wept, hoping for change. Praying for our children. Waiting for action. Yet, here we are.

Another mother is incomplete. Our community is heartbroken again (or still). Our police are seeking answers, and our kids have lost a friend. At what point do we wake up from this nightmare?
What will it take? How many need to die at the hands of senseless people with guns? I surely don’t have the answers. I wish I did. Until then, I will continue to write, and I will continue to love.

Tonight, when I finally head home after a long day with deadlines and meetings, and I can crawl into my bed knowing (hoping) my own Grandview teen is safely in his. I will close my eyes and I will see this other boy’s face. His smile from the photos that were shared on social media will shine bright in my thoughts. And I will wake up tomorrow. Something this boy will never do again.

I consider myself pretty lucky to have had so many loving, caring men in my life. From uncles and grandfathers, to my brother and, of course, my own dad, I’ve had the influence of men who work hard, love their families, treat women with respect and are always there to fix things when needed.

I have limited space this week, but wanted to take a few lines to wish all of our male readers a Happy Father’s Day this weekend. Whether you are a dad, or make a difference in the life of a child who is not yours biologically, I thank you and I honor you this Sunday.

My dad has always been one of my strongest supporters. He is someone who always has my back, but would also teach me some hard lessons if he thought it was needed. He has always put his family first, and we can usually count on him for a corny “dad joke” to make us laugh (or roll our eyes).

Happy Father’s Day to you, Dad. Thank you for everything, and I love you the sky.