June 1, 2020

My heart is heavy...I don't have the words

As I was making cookies, upon request, for Man-Child and one of his best friends yesterday morning - they were coming by for a social distanced lunch yesterday afternoon - I kept wondering..."What was George Floyd's number one recipe request of his mother?"  Chocolate chips?  Peanut butter cookies?  Or maybe he loved her pies?  Or maybe her deviled eggs.

What about Ahmaud Arbery?  What about the thousands of others?

As I baked, I thought of their mothers.  The fear, which had to have been constant while they raised their boys.  Their broken hearts.

My heart was heavy.  None of those deaths - those broken hearts - were warranted.  They should have never happened.

But they did.

And then the world exploded.

The rioting - but is it really?  Some reports state that outside agitators are to blame.  Some reports state that protesters are peaceful - I certainly hope so.  Whatever the case, things need to change.  And quickly.  This should all be behind us by now.  The fact that it's not is beyond shameful.

We raised Man-Child to judge a person on their character - and it shows in the vast array of friends he has.  There have only been two in his entire life where I had to ask him - "Look at how these people treat you.  Is that the behavior of a true friend?"  He eventually would agree - that is NOT how you treat your friends.

As Man-Child and his best friend walked through the door yesterday afternoon - the physical difference immediately noticeable...one pale and one brown.  Both beautiful, wonderful humans.  One said, "Hi Mom!"  The other, "Hi, Mama G!"  And my heart swelled with love.

We fed them, laughed with them and gave them cookies and milk.  Then we listened to the boys give each other grief - lovingly, of course - as we chatted about random things.

I don't have the words to express the feelings I have for what has been going on.  I have no answers as how to effect change.  But this I know - children do NOT know hate.  Hate is taught.  As parents, that is one of the most important lessons we must teach - love and inclusion.

As I watched the boys walk away, laughing and joking, I said a prayer for both of them, but I may have said an extra prayer for the one who called me Mama G.  And it broke my heart that I needed to say an extra prayer.  That shouldn't be necessary.