I hate it when I have the scoop and have to hold it--only to lose it to someone else. That's the world of breaking news, though, and the first person who nails the story gets to run with it!

Not that it matters, but I had the story at 7 a.m. today, and would have had it last night, had I not gone to bed just before receiving a text message. I am bummed.

And so, about 5 p.m. today, the world learned that funeral plans had changed, seemingly overnight. That instead of there being one funeral for Lashanda Armstrong and her three little ones: 5-year-old Landen Pierre, 2-year-old Lance Pierre and 11-month-old Laianna Pierre, there will now be two funerals. (Lainanna, by the way, turned one today. Yet another sadness this family must bear.)

I have been so busy replying to emails from people who not only comprehend this story, but who have also lived it--or are living it right now--that I haven't even had time to comment about my national piece at The Daily Beast. And all I have time for now, as I toss my clothes into a bag and hit the road in my rental vehicle, is to say that there are a lot of mean people out there, who don't know how to play nice. I guess they could be just having a bad day. Or not. I wonder if they would feel the same way, if they were on the recipient's end of these brave, heartbreaking messages I'm reading.

Now back to today's news: two funerals for a grieving family and the only surviving sibling--La'Shaun Armstrong, who has faced more in his short 10 years than most of us will ever face in an entire lifetime--just somehow doesn't make sense to me.

But that's just me.

EDITOR'S NOTE: I'm just another woman who was once as overwhelmed as Lashanda seemed to be.