One year later.

When can my heart beat again?
When does the pain ever end?
When do the tears stop from running over?
When does you'll get over it begin?

I hear what you're sayin'
But I swear that it's not making sense
So when can I see you?

When can I see you again?
When can my heart beat again?
When can I see you again?
And when can I breathe once again?
And when can I see you again?

~ Babyface

____________________________________________

So hard to believe that it's been an entire 365 days since that awful day when the heartbeat of a beautiful brown boy was silenced in a senseless act of impulsive violence. Yes. It's been a full year already.

And with the things this year brought to my family, I am seeing this differently, more somberly. The sudden loss of a child. No warning, no nothing. Yes. I've seen it much closer now--through the eyes of my own mother and father--in three dimensions and in highest definition.

Yes, it has been an entire year since Trayvon Martin was gunned down with a pack of Skittles and no weapons in his pocket. And yes, it was a big story in the media last year. But this year, more than ever, I know that when it was all said and done, he was somebody's baby.

I won't be at any of the vigils this evening, but I did rock my hoodie today in his memory.

And tonight I will rock my own beautiful brown boys to sleep. . .  stroking their soft skin, smelling their little boy smell, strumming her pain with my fingers. . . . all in an effort to force myself not to forget that another mother under the same moon cannot.

***
Rest in peace, Trayvon. Please find my sister and tell her we miss her. (She'll be the one rocking the crocheted hoodie.)

Playing this beautiful song for my mother, Trayvon's mother, and for any mother who knows the unnatural pain of losing a child.


You can read my posts on the boy in the hoodie here and here.