There are two little girls and a boy in Sydney, who I wish I could hold tonight.
I wish I could rock them and murmur words of comfort to them.
I wish I could wipe away the events of the last few days.
I wish I could instead fill their heads with innocent questions of what Santa will bring and what they are doing on their holidays.
I wish I could dry their tears and whisper fierce mantras to them that it will all be okay because mum will be home soon.
And I wish I could be speaking the truth.
I want to erase the pain of these three small children of barrister Katrina Dawson, who was killed during the Sydney siege over night.
But I can’t. And that makes me angry and above all desperately, desperately sad.
I know I am not alone.
I know that all of Australia took a sharp intake of breath when they heard that one of the victims of the Sydney siege was a mother-of-three.
Over the past day, Australia stood on a knife edge for 17 hours waiting, wondering what the fate of the hostages inside the Lindt Café would be.
Many of us did not sleep, even those far removed followed the terrible events via the media praying for a peaceful resolution. While we were filled with fear and terror for an unknown number of victims that most of us did not know, the families of 17 people were in a living hell.