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Can I share a story with you?
We drove about an hour to get to the site of my daughter’s school. It’s in a pretty isolated location + it’s a construction site. So no one is there but work folks. But this week the staff, her family were invited to sign the memorial beam. 1/
We drove about an hour to get to the site of my daughter’s school. It’s in a pretty isolated location + it’s a construction site. So no one is there but work folks. But this week the staff, her family were invited to sign the memorial beam. 1/
We were there for a bit. Taking in the reality of having a school but not a daughter. Envisioning the laughter of the children that will walk the halls. The educators that will teach there. The music + art that will be made. This is a great honor. It is holy ground. 2/
And it is heavy. As we took it in, a man drove off the site towards us in a pick up truck, looped around + then came back.
“What are you doing here?”
I immediately tense.
“Signing the memorial beam”, I replied. 3/
My son is in the car. My heart screams “deescalate”.
“What are you doing here?”
I immediately tense.
“Signing the memorial beam”, I replied. 3/
My son is in the car. My heart screams “deescalate”.
He looked hesitant. And now I’m hesitant. We’re trying to figure each other out. Him- our purpose. Me- his ask.
“I work on a lot of schools. This one’s special.”
“I am Ana’s mother.”
He is confused now.
“Is she an artist?”
“No, she is a baby. 4/
“I work on a lot of schools. This one’s special.”
“I am Ana’s mother.”
He is confused now.
“Is she an artist?”
“No, she is a baby. 4/
She was murdered in the SHS shooting.”
And then it clicks for him. And he lowers his gaze, leaps from the car and removes his hat.
“Jesus. I’m sorry. I’m, so sorry. Thought she was an artist. I lost a son and I’ve never been the same. My, God. My, God.” 5/
And then it clicks for him. And he lowers his gaze, leaps from the car and removes his hat.
“Jesus. I’m sorry. I’m, so sorry. Thought she was an artist. I lost a son and I’ve never been the same. My, God. My, God.” 5/
The two people sizing each other up now relax their shoulders with bowed heads. I ask his name. And I share mine. The air is heavier now. We say our goodbyes.
I regret I did not ask his son’s name.
May our hearts soften towards one another and our known and unknown stories.
I regret I did not ask his son’s name.
May our hearts soften towards one another and our known and unknown stories.
Grief should not be our unifier. It’s too hard. Let’s make justice our unifier. Freedom. Wellness.
Wear your mask. Don’t vote for racists. Healthcare. Mat leave. Reform of all kinds.
Because this? You don’t want this.
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Wear your mask. Don’t vote for racists. Healthcare. Mat leave. Reform of all kinds.
Because this? You don’t want this.
And if this thread felt heavy and different it’s because on top of missing Ana I’m thinking of Elijah and all of the people who don’t get mercy to explain things like I did.
And it broke me.
Everything broke inside.
And it broke me.
Everything broke inside.
