When each of my three children were born, I held them in my arms and imagined who they would one day become. Even at birth, James, Natalie and Daniel each had very distinct and unique personalities, and I thought their futures would be limitless. It was unimaginable that sweet little Daniel’s future would be violently cut short by a rampaging young man whose brain was clearly broken. But it happened. I can still feel the softness of his 7-year-old cheek when I kissed him and put him on the school bus to go to Sandy Hook Elementary School on December 14, 2012, never to see him alive again.