"My being longed for renewal..." ~ Jane Eyre

It has been the longest of winters literally and figuratively.  

For those who know me, you would think there were previous moments in my life where I would have truly felt my innocence lost, but this past winter was truly a time when I felt nothing would ever be the same again. Death of friends, death of a former way of American economic life, even the death of two baseball stadiums that were filled with important memories I have of both grandfathers.  The winter itself lingered a long time here;  I wore my winter coat up until three weeks ago, still waking up to the cold and needing warmth during my morning commute.  The light of the warm sun of spring just never seemed in sight.  I felt like Jane Eyre during her long days of depression and fog after she travels a harsh road away from Thornfield. 

But then, Jane awakens, and is finally able to enjoy life again...and return to Thornfield.  Nothing is ever the same there...except one thing:  her love and happiness with Rochester.  Throughout all of this, the Prince and I have grown stronger, as has our love.  And, thankfully, as the warmth of the sun has finally arrived and the flowers are in bloom (such as the one in the photo from my garden),  our lives feel like they have blossomed once again.

All of a sudden life has become happy again.  It wont ever be the same, but at least life feels more and more back to normal now that spring is upon us. 

"The New Year had been celebrated..." ~ Jane Eyre

My New Year's resolution is simple: be greedier.

It may strike one as an odd resolution at first, but it actually is not. Its the best resolution one can give herself, and I have every intention of sticking to this resolution.

I am going to want more time savoring what is best in my life. I do so already, but one can never be too rich in the simple pleasures and serene beauty of everyday moments with a lover, with friends, and with family. I do not take my blessings for granted, but I can take a little bit more from life. In the wake of the tragedy that has ensued, this is a promise to myself. I am taking more...much more...bowlfuls more.

More dates set to cook with Jack. More reasons to gather friends around me. More time for myself. More moments for creativity. More time to sip my coffee rather than gulp it. More time for my body to slim down. More time to blog. More time on the phone with my parents when we talk. More indulging in cookbook recipes. More naps on weekends. More champagne drinking when at a bar. More days at the beach this summer. More cocktails with umbrellas in them. More music for the Ipod. More comedies and less dramas.

When I am with the Prince, more minutes before our lips part during a kiss, more time holding each other, more pauses so I can stare into his eyes, more time away together on weekend getaways, more nights just sitting on the couch drinking scotch, more cooking meals together in the kitchen, more lazy days playing Star Wars video games, more days out on the town in Manhattan, more time together with each other's families.

Happy New Year to my dear readers - may you be greedy this year and enjoy each moment of life....

"Had not yet found that peace of God which passeth all understanding..." ~ Jane Eyre

The photo above is one I took a week ago in the early hours of dawn. A blanket of snow had just covered New York, and I stepped outside the door to my apartment, where this classic latern is located, with my camera to try and caputure this serene moment. I had slept another unrestful night and sought some refuge for peace and quiet outside.

To me, the paradigm of peace is the outdoors after a snowfall. There is nothing but a calm silence that permeates the air the snowflakes fall in. The white on the ground is indicative of purity itself, and something about it all just envokes serenity in the heart.

I look to the latern and hope to find some light in my heart, for it has been heavy these past two weeks. I thank all those who left comments of kindness here; they mean so very much. My Christmas was blessed, and I am so thankful to have spent it with the love of my life and my family. The Prince told me that I must start writing again, and I shall. Another day or so and I shall...

"A paradise of peace..." ~ Jane Eyre

Vignettes From Election Night:

It is toward the early hours of projections and we are taking a short nap in his bed as CNN anchor voices fill the room with anticipation of a win, sounding like a melodic lullaby. The Prince's eyes are closed as I run my fingers through his thick, dark hair. For the first time in a long time, there is finally a calm in our breaths. Maybe we wont have to worry about our future together as much as we have been, fearing the worst for the economy and the quality of living in a tainted America. Perhaps tonight we, too, can win back our daydreams and make them a reality once more - a home, vacations to India, sending the children to Ivies. I close my eyes and continue to run my fingers through his hair and think about the lyric's from Springsteen's "No Surrender." - I want to sleep beneath peaceful skies in my lover's bed, with a wide open country in my eyes and these romantic dreams in my head - Later on that night I feel salt on my lips as I lick my tears and fall asleep with wet eyes...happy, alive, and grateful to sleep well once again. I think about my Prince and my love for him and his ideals, and how much we have shared during this election together and how integrated it is in our relationship. There is no one else I love discussing politics more with.

He calls her is rock, his best friend, and the love of his life. She emerges in red, the color of passion she has for him, her girls, her country, her belief in dreams. I watch them kiss and her whisper "I love you" into his ear, and they are able to steal a private moment together among millions of people watching - for no one can ever really surmise the true depths of their passion. I envision them at the end of the evening going home and closing the door to a world that is celebrating, lying in their own bed together, perhaps he running his fingers through her hair as they daydream about their future. It will not be easy for them, for now they have the burdens left to them from the horrible regime of eight years that has decimated so much. What has not been decimated is love - on all levels. Love of country, love of dreams becoming reality, love of partners in life. And because of that love, they, too, will sleep in each others arms with romantic dreams in their heads.

And tonight (or rather, these early hours of the morning), a man of mixed race is President of the United States, proving that America is capable of practicing the ideals it is founded on. One day mine and the Prince's children, who will be of mixed race, can look at this man and know that anything is possible in this beautiful country.

"There is some difference between living..." ~ Jane Eyre

There is some difference between living for the next moment and living in this moment, grateful for all of the love and beauty in life. When my father's father was dying of cancer, I was in the middle of being a high school production of Our Town. Always remembering Emily Webb's passionate plea to the Stage Manger about living life as you live it, the Stage Manager responds perhaps saints and poets do...maybe. The rest, no. Well, I consider myself a poet...and I try each day both here on this blog and in the life I lead to savor each moment because I know as long as life is, it shall not last forever.

And then there are those saints like Heather, as you see in the photo above, whose lives are tragically cut short by cancer. Although her friends and loved ones refer to her as Heather, she was also known as Dr. Vonbergen. This woman was brilliant, and before she died she was working as a psychologist that was of late working to improve the lives and mental health of recent veterans from Iraq, among all the other things she did to help others.

I am posting this for my sister, because it has pained me to see her in so much pain. There is a link below to a collage her friends made from Cortland, where she and Heather were roommates their freshman year. There are photos I will post at later dates of Heather with us at my sweet sixteen and Heather with my family in New York City for the first time. My dad called her Jazzy Heather - and she began signing her name that way to my parents in cards - she loved jazz music. So, I am posting a classic jazz song for everyone to listen to today...enjoy life, call your friends and loved ones to tell them you love them, and please just take five minutes out of your day to donate money so that future lives can be saved from this terrible form of cancer.

http://web.me.com/scottcd/Tribute_to_Heather_Vonbergen/Heather.html (a tribute)

http://www.curesarcoma.org/ (please donate)

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FSfduB-0lss (a charmed life - some jazz for Heather who lived one until the end)

"Eat when excited..." ~ Jane Eyre

One of the more poignant scenes in Sex and the City is when Charlotte breaks down in front of Carrie, hysterical crying after Carrie calls her out on a fear she has. She can hardly speak through her sobs, but she manages to say that life is too good, too perfect, and too wonderful right now and something has to go wrong...how can one be so blessed with such happiness? Carrie reminds her that she has been through enough pain in her life, and its time to enjoy the joy. And in the end, Charlotte does.

I think the movie addressed the issue that it is possible to have your cake and eat it, too. The etymology of that statement is an interesting one. It dates back to 1596 as a metaphorical idiom for what is impossible - you cant eat cake and then have it because you already had it! Still, what we think is impossible in our daily lives may be possible. Its a simple kind of hope that is as plain as a vanilla cupcake, but also as sweet as one.

I feel like Charlotte in this moment - I am so thankful for all of my blessings, but at the same time I fear having it all because life is seemingly perfect right now. I expressed that to my cousin, Steph, the other evening. The eve of my thirtieth birthday was one of the darkest moments of my life, and everything seemed impossible to obtain and turn around and fix both personally and professionally. And then, as if it were the exact moment I made my wish on that piece of birthday cake, the impossible became possible and my dreams were sliced like a cake because they soon became the best reality.

And so, readers, there is a moment in Jane Eyre where Jane leaves her career in education for good and comes into her own wealth as she looks towards her future with Rochester. This is the moment where I leave education and move on to making real money in a new job. I have a new career, I have my Prince, I have the best family and friends, and I have been given the ingredients to make a cake that I am going to have and eat, too. As tempted as I am to cry like Charlotte and worry that this will all be lost, I remember that this was not given to me. I worked for this, just like I will work to make this cake and sweat over it until its ready for the taking, and will enjoy the sweets of my labor...

"While such honey-dew fell..." ~ Jane Eyre

Its Saturday night and I am listening to "Honey, Honey" from the Mamma Mia soundtrack, keeping up with my latest ABBA kick since Wednesday night when I saw the film with sis Missy. I am totally thinking of the Prince as I sip a cocktail made with vodka and valencia/mango juice in a blue martini glass and am singing along to lyrics such as "Honey honey, how you thrill me, ah-hah, honey honey..." He is on his way here soon, and as the song goes, I feel like I wanna sing when you do your thing.

Life is as sweet as honey lately and as thickly rich. I was cruising in the car earlier with the sunroof open, blasting ABBA, looking at the blue skies, sipping the bottom caramel layer of an iced caramel macchiato, and totally enjoying the moment of bliss because I feel the most relaxed and the most secure than I have in a great while.

So far, thirty has been the best year in my entire life, and I am so excited for the rest of the year to unfold. I wouldnt trade this moment for anything, and I wouldnt go back to my twenties if I had the chance. I was a dancing queen at seventeen and loved that time until college ended, and then I feel like I wasted a lot of emotions in my early twenties. I love that I am able to take a chance on me once again and change my lifestyle these days. Indeed, lately I give myself credit for being a super trooper and forging ahead despite some hard obstacles. I can spend more time doing things I love, like reading historical fiction that recounts the moments in the battle of Waterloo. In the end, I think I have figured out the name of the game, and I have never been happier because I am the winner taking it all.

So, what's your favorite ABBA song and why? :)

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2P3SWl0EAAs

"And that faithful friendship..." ~ Jane Eyre

Carrie has carried me through many a Sunday night when Saturday dreams were hanging out to dry. She and her crew also comforted me, along with Chinese take out (usually chicken lo mein) and a cheap bottle of chardonnay, on many a Friday night when I preferred to get a manicure and stay home for the evening after a long and stressful work week.

But it is my friends and sisters who have carried me through the severe moments of life's greatest pains and obstacles, and this kind of deep support from friends was reflected on the screen tonight above all else.

Yes, there was a festive and flirty feel to seeing the film tonight with my dear cousin, for three years ago we watched the last episode together in her den while eating desserts and learning Big's real name. Tonight we dressed up, we got cosmos after the movie, we fussed over the fashions in the film as we drank our pink drinks. It was a celebration on many levels, especially a celebration of friendship and sororial bonds.

For me, the best parts of the film were not about shoes, bags, sex, or the city. The most poignant parts dealt with the essence of friendship down to its rawest moments. I teared up often during the film, but sobbed when I saw Samantha having to literally feed Carrie because she was too depressed to eat. That hit home, and in that moment I thought about my sisters and my best girlfriends. I thought about the night I had to sleep at Missy's after a severe breakup because I just couldn't be alone. I thought about J.Sarah taking phone calls at two in the morning when I was in pain from being so hurt by a person's callousness and coldness. I thought about Robin coming over one morning when I actually couldn't get out of bed because I was heartbroken, and I thought about Cassie asking me the hardest questions about myself even though they were meant to make my life easier.

Of course the tables have been turned and I have been the one to be the support system, but my being there for them is just as much as a given as they are there for me. It doesn't take watching a film to appreciate the bonds that we have, but it certainly is special to have a reason to reflect on those bonds and revere them.

It has been hard living without Carrie and the crew these past few years, because they, too, served as a constant support in my life. It may sound trite to some, but it wont to those who truly understand what it is like to be a single woman in a city with brains and beauty, looking for the ultimate purpose in life: love. But, as the film points out so well and so clearly, perhaps in the end its not about romantic love...but the love of your girlfriends and sisters that matters the most in this life. Having both is the icing on the cake.

Thankfully, in that sense, I have it all, just like Ms. Carrie Bradshaw.

Cheers...

"But judgment shall still have the last word in every argument, and the casting vote in every decision..." ~ Jane Eyre


I do wonder how many voters today are going to be standing in the machine and reflecting on how fortunate they are to have this beautiful right to decide who leads this nation. What I think of is how 100 years ago women were not given the right to vote, and now a woman is a potential presidential candidate. I think about how slavery existed 150 years ago and now there is an African-American male who is a potential presidential candidate. This is the quintessential American Dream.

Of course even I admit to not staying in that frame of mind for long. I am in the present, and I am presently anxious and nervous. For the first time in my life I am emotional about a candidate, and I assure you tears will flow down my cheeks if he does not make it on the presidential ballot for the Democrats. I am voting for Obama because he is the best candidate in my eyes. But a part of me knows that if he wins, it will touch me on a deeper level. I spent seven years teaching MLK's speech and have heard it over two dozen times. The words will no longer be of dreams, but they will finally be of life if he wins. All of the experienced politicians have let me down, so I say give me the one who has the biggest heart to give to this nation and the brightest eyes looking towards the future of this nation.

When The New Yorker arrived at my door today (see above), I smiled. Obama as Eustice Tilley was right side up. For an in-depth, candid look at Barack, click here: http://www.newyorker.com/reporting/2007/05/07/070507fa_fact_macfarquhar?currentPage=1
And for a collection of great photos: http://www.newyorker.com/online/2007/05/07/slideshow_070507_obama

"He hews down like a giant..."~ Jane Eyre

It is just a game, but it is more than a game.

The nature of the sport becomes a metaphor for life. As a Giants fan, it was about my team winning, but as a human being, it was about showing the world the power of the underdog. In the end, the latter meant more.

When no one believes in you, you believe in yourself. Easier said than done? I think last night proved that it can be done. I am no football expert, but I know a play of passion and fire when I see one. Literally, Eli was getting pulled down by those wanting to see him fail, and he hung on and would not allow himself to fall. He pulled himself out with courage, and still managed to complete his objective in life at that moment. And then David slew Goliath when he cought the football on his helmet, as if to show the world that if you literally put your mind to it, you can acheive glory.

Of course my real heroes are the defensive team lead by one of the other greatest Mike's in sports' history. They fought and fought and fought and managed to hold back those who were favored. Why they were favored, I do not know. I think they cheated to get to the top, their coach has no sense of sportsmanship, and their quarterback is all bravado. It just goes to show you that nice guys finish first, and those who have heart and a sense of family will prevail in the end.

My voice is gone from screaming, I am exahusted, and I ate and drank too much last night. But I am a happy woman. Tomorrow my city has a tickertape parade and illustrates to people everywhere that the underdogs' spirit can and will make them winners. Whatever is an obstacle in your life that is favored to overtake you means nothing. Keep your hope and passion, like my boys, and you will win in this life.

(*On a lighter note: even my favorite ad was about the underdog winning! Click here for the Coca-Cola balloon commercial - go to quarter three: http://sports.aol.com/nfl/superbowlads?NCID=aolcmp00300000002574*)

"There was hope in its aspect..." ~ Jane Eyre

He brings me back to many moments of my childhood that compiled into the solidification of my love of country.

As a child, I idolized Lincoln and wrote books on Theodore Roosevelt (illustrated by my hand, might I add). I was taught about FDR from my grandparents and knew the details of the attack on Pearl Harbor and how American fought back and won. There is a picture of me and my sister, age seven, standing at Lincoln's memorial in D.C. saluting old Abe with beaming smiles. By the time I was in middle school, I hoarded American historical fiction designed for readers my age and must have read the book Time Enough for Drums by Ann Rinaldi two dozen times because it was an educational epic about the Revolutionary War. I visited Philadelphia and saw the Liberty Bell; I walked the Freedom Trail in Boston. My older sister and her friends became obsessed with the series North and South, and it became a teaching tool my father used to have us read more about the Civil War even though we admit we were more into learning about Patrick Swayze. By the time I was a teenager I was rocking mock trials in American History and got a 5 on my AP American History test not because I studied hard but because the material was something I was extremely passionate about. I will never forget climbing Lady Liberty, seeing Missisisippi Burning for the first time, and going to Fraunces Tavern in the city where Washington gave his farewell speech to his troops. I will never forget hearing the first opening bars to Ashoken Farewell for the first time when it debuted on Ken Burns' Civil War and asking my orchestra teacher to order the music. All that I learned about the glory of this country and the bounties of democracy were kept close to my heart.

As a child and teenager, I felt safe and secure as an American. I was aware of the flaws, the horrible moments of shameful history, and the corruption that has ensued. I was aware of succceses in addition to failures. Still, I never lost faith and I believed we were moving in a direction that would always overcome any obstacle in our way as a nation.

And then in my early twenties, my faith was tested and all but lost.

My city was attacked because a terrorist was not stopped when he should have been years before; the sidewalks of my New York will forever be tainted with blood of the innocent. Another city I love was destroyed because the goverment failed to uphold levees that were safe and secure; American citizens dead...floating away as if their lives didnt matter because they were black and poor. I popped sleeping pills all through the summer of 2006 when D.R. was on the streets of Samarra during his first tour of Iraq. Now that he is behind a desk during his second, we have no opportunity to talk on a regular basis because he is so overworked. The economy eats away at my savings and my generation will never get our Social Security. My nephew has never experienced a true snow because of global warming, and more and more people I know are being affected by cancer at a younger age, probably due to toxins in our enviornment.

My twenties were about fatigue, not passion. They were about anger, not love. They were about anti-establishment, not patriotism.

And then he came into my life.

This man can resurrect the dead.

When he speaks, Lincoln's perseverance is alive, Martin Luther King Jr's dream is alive, Teddy Roosevelt's tenaciousness is alive, FDR's leadership is alive.

I am alive.

http://www.barackobama.com/index.php

"I may make shift yet to behave..." ~ Jane Eyre

Dear Bloggers O'The World:

I, Jack Krikor, aged two years and three months say ho ho ho to you! I have been a perfect little boy this year and can't wait for Santy Claus to come see me through my chimney. Though I must admit that it would actually be cooler if Bert from Mary Poppins came down the chimney flu. No offense to Santy, but Bert has a chimney sweep I can play with.

Anyway, there have been lots of fun things I have been doing this Christmas season. I decorated the tree with my mommy and daddy this past weekend, and one of my ornaments is a little plush snowman my Aunt Maimy got me at the Fortunoff Christmas Store last week. I saw it in the store and he was so cute, so I hugged and kissed him. Maimy then hugged and kissed me and got me the snowman for my tree.

Maimy and I also made a gingerbread house together. Well, I made it and she just kind of supervised. You can read all about it at: www.epicureanescapades.blogspot.com and get some good details about The Great Sprinkle Debacle. (ahem) I had a great time creating peppermint disk stacks and throwing the unused ones around the kitchen. I mean, they are shaped like frisbees, just smaller.

Lately I am watching The Polar Express on dvd and loving the choochoo. My favorite scene is when they serve the hot chocolate to the little kids riding in the passenger car. Maimy tells me that she held me in her arms when I was a few months old and as I slept, she watched a few of the scenes. She also tells me it was one of her favorite books as a child, and she remembers getting the book from my grandparents and it included the bell. I love ringing Christmas bells. Aunt Maimy tells me one day I am going to watch a movie about a bell ringing and an angel getting his wings.

My Aunty wanted me to remind all of you that Christmas is about loving a special child. So, remember that despite all of the commercialism and craziness of the holiday. Nothing is as pure as the love of a child and the love for a child. So, please keep that sacred this Christmas and hug your children and nieces and nephews and thank God for their presence in your life this Christmas.

My Aunty says I am the greatest gift ever....even when I throw sprinkles all over the floor during gingerbread house making!

With love and blown kisses,
Jack Krikor

"Such a wealth of the power of communicating happiness..." ~ Jane Eyre

Yesterday at five o'clock in the evening I was offered an opportunity to enter the administrative world of Academia.

With feelings of absolute happiness, I accepted.

I shall now be working as an administrator in the Admissions Department at a prominent University here in New York.

With absolute joy, Eyre Affairs begins a new chapter...

"This violence is all most repulsive..." ~ Jane Eyre

A few months ago I shook hands with Darrell Scott, the father of Rachel Scott.

Rachel was the first student shot and killed at Columbine High School in 1999.

Rachel's Challenge, a program that teaches tolerance and love both of one's self and of others, was being presented to all of our students at the high school that day. Rachel's death would not be in vain; for this program seeks to counteract all of the evil that occur ed on that day in April. Her father speaks all over the country to students each week, standing strongly and proudly as he speaks of his dead daughter. At the end of this program, each student signed a sheet and accepted the following challenge to
~ eliminate prejudice
~ dare to dream
~ choose your influences wisely
~ speak kind words and act kindly
~ start a chain reaction with family and friends

I thought a great deal about Mr. Scott this morning.

At the time that I met him, listened to him speak, and learned about his foundation, I still was not exactly sure how the man was standing. To this day I find his ability to do this stemming from some kind of super heroic powers. The depths of his love for his daughter were deeper than the pain, and that is what, in the end, keeps him going. I knew deep down that this project was his catharsis, and I believed that yes, indeed, he is making a difference and he is helping us all move beyond Columbine's massacre.

And yesterday, we took ten steps back.

I wondered if Mr. Scott was able to get out of bed this morning.

He did. I should not have doubted him, for he is one of the strongest human beings I have ever met.

I owe it to this man, whose hand I shook with the greatest feeling of respect, to repeat his words here...

Newsweek, 2007

April 17, 2007 - For Darrell Scott, the bloody massacre at Virginia Tech on Monday was a painful reminder of eight years ago this week, when Dylan Kebold and Eric Harris opened fire at Columbine High School in Littleton, Colo. It was then that his daughter Rachel, a junior, was the first to be killed by the two assassins while she ate her lunch outside. Her brother Craig was unharmed, but watched from hiding as his friends were gunned down in the school library. Scott has since devoted his life to preventing further attacks—another reason why this latest tragedy is especially upsetting. Through the Rachel's Challenge Foundation,Scott reaches out to some 60,000 students a week through school assemblies, workshops and outreach programs he says aim to deliver a "chain reaction" of hope through Rachel's memory. He spoke with NEWSWEEK's Jessica Bennett about the latest school shootings. Excerpts:

NEWSWEEK: What would you say to the families of the Virginia Tech victims?

Darrell Scott: I had a hard time breathing all day because my chest tightens and the anxiety sets in, and it just brings back memories of what we went through eight years ago. It's just a terrible, terrible situation. But I hope these parents can be aware that there are thousands of parents like them out there, like me, who stand with them silently and invisibly and support them with our hearts and whole being.

What helped you cope with the loss of Rachel?
For us, the thing that was most effective was each other and our friends. After the healing process had begun, we got through it by cherishing the memories and celebrating the lives of those who've been lost. There's a big hole in my life that can never be replaced. But by celebrating Rachel's life, we've been able to keep her legacy alive. And through our program, I'm seeing lives touched and changed by it every day.

But can you ever truly recover from something like this?
In Columbine there were students who didn't even see the action take place who are still going through depression and other struggles, so it's not easy. My son was probably the biggest emotional victim of Columbine: he lost his sister, he was covered in the blood and body parts of his friends while he was crouched in the library watching everything happen. And he still struggles. But he made the choice to celebrate his life and his sister's, and not to live in the past.

Why do you think this continues to happen?
Are we fueling a culture of violence?I've said for eight years that the responsibility lies with all of us. When I was a child, they didn't allow the extreme violence to be so widely available to young people the way it is now. Unfortunately, today people can go to the Internet and find out how to make bombs. We've got artists and musicians who glorify suicide and homicide. We've got videogames being mimicked after Columbine. And you've got extremely violent movies. It's no secret that when people are exposed to extreme violence and become angry, it triggers something. And if they have access to a weapon, the combination of all of that can be pretty volatile.

This was the second incident at Virginia Tech this year. Do you think there was more the school could have done to prevent this?
Unless there were warning signs from this man, there's really not much anyone can do. If someone is suicidal and wants to take out a bunch of people, and there are no warning signs, metal detectors or armed guards aren't going to stop that person. And unless we turn our schools into prisons, there's only so much we can prevent.

So how can we try to prevent these rampages?
The best way to prevent violence is to demonstrate kindness and compassion. Many times, if you look at the lives of killers, there's been rejection in their lives. That's no excuse for what they do, but if we could simply show everyone around us compassion and kindness, though we may not know it, I guarantee we will be making a difference.

School shootings always spark debate over the availability of guns. What's your view on gun control?
I spoke before Congress about a month after the Columbine tragedy and I said then that I didn't think gun control in itself could solve this—and I say it now. Eric and Dylan broke dozens of laws to do what they did at Columbine, and unfortunately, if a person is determined to kill, and they don't care whether they live or die, they're going to find a way to do it whether or not they've got easy access to a gun.

You speak at a lot of schools. What can school administrators do to quell anxieties among students and parents about these kinds of attacks?We can choose to live our lives in fear, but the truth is we can't predict the future. We have to choose to live life fully. If we walk in fear it just becomes a never-ending cycle.

Is there any good we can take away from this tragedy?
When tragedy occurs it reawakens people. But we also so quickly forget. If anything good comes out of something so horrible, I think it's how sacred life really is. If we could just live with that understanding.