Tragedy, even someone else’s, requires that we pause and reflect. The shooting yesterday in an Omaha mall by 19-year-old Robert Hawkins will leave nine families inconsolable…his and those of the eight victims who died.

When something like this happens, everyone asks why. We search for elusive answers and soon the finger pointing will begin…parents, friends, school teachers…the media will ask why these people didn’t see the signs of trouble brewing and do something to stop the storm before it hit. We’ll ask why someone so young can be so troubled, so violent.

Are there any answers, I don’t know. I do know that a new mother does not hold her infant son in her arms and as she’s counting fingers and toes think…I wonder if he’ll grow up and open fire in a shopping mall three weeks before Christmas. Even if your child is labeled as he grows troubled," do you anticipate this kind of a break down? Is it the fault of our society, the fault of a family, an individual?

I don’t know who’s to blame, or why it will even matter unless some how the information helps prevent the mindful break down of other children. I wonder what happens in the mind of someone so young, even someone who is having difficulty in his life, that is so terrible he can no longer envision a future for himself that includes anything good. And that he can so carelessly take the lives of other people. This type of murder is the most selfish act, and to follow the atrocity with suicide is the act of someone who’s not only desperate but who’s also a coward. 

How, as a mother of a young boy, will I know if his teen years, which will most likely be marked with some sort of trouble, also hold the secret to something ominous on the horizon? What do I need to do today to help ensure my child doesn’t grow up to open fire in a shopping mall three weeks before Christmas? The only thing I know to do is to hug and kiss him until his little cheeks turn red, to make sure I show him that he is loved and that he can certainly accomplish any heart-felt and honorable dream he may have…that there must alwasy be a tomorrow full of promise.

I can’t imagine being Robert Hawkins mother and to face the loss of my son, the pain of what he’s taken from the families of his eight victims, and the media invasion that’s sure to ensue. I don’t know the woman. I have no idea if she is an honorable woman and mother. Right now I just can’t imagine being her.

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