I woke up with such a heaviness on my heart. This is never a good holiday to think beyond my smallest world—No, I honestly thought that I had passed that stage. That this year I was free to take on the biggest world on this the eve of David’s Death Day, but the missing of him, the sorrow of the loss of him lingers, it scents the air like roses in a garden, it is in the fabric of the comfortable capris that I pull on to grab a cup of coffee before Julia gets out of bed.
The radio’s first story is about another Black man in Ohio, fleeing the police, who was shot 60 times. The eight officers involved in the shooting were put on administrative leave which signals at least some question of appropriate behavior.
Tears escape my eyes.
Chasing Joy 