I know the heart wrenching impact of suicide and the extreme, desperate heart and mind space one has to be in to make that choice. I also have friends who suffer from depression, anxiety, bipolar disorder and perhaps other mental illnesses I know nothing about. I worry about them. I worry when they get to quiet and when they stay away too long. I wonder if my phone is gonna ring with the grief of a parent or sibling telling me they’ve chosen their own final act on the stage of life— I am sometimes terrified by the knowing… the knowing that no matter how beautiful, intelligent, witty and resourceful I find you— that if you don’t see it in yourself what I think doesn’t matter.
I cannot imagine the turmoil, the pain, the absolute heartbreak of her absence in my life. As Mother’s Day approaches many will be faced with the reality of more than “almost”. They will wake up every single day with their beloved mothers still in heaven. While the Christian thing to do is to rejoice knowing that she is with her heavenly father… the heart of a motherless child can hardly find peace; let alone rejoice.
So when people came to our home to drink and eat and be merry, but didn’t share the love I didn’t understand. What does it mean to share the love? Some might view this response as petty or punitive, but I’m just here to share my truth. If my truth doesn’t resonate with you—you might just be the kind of person who doesn’t share the love.
It's unfortunate, but some folks love to downplay the role of mothers. …Maybe that’s not fair. Some folks do not understand the intricacies of motherhood. How it stretches from the time we know our babies exist in our bellies until we leave this earth. The trips to the grocery store, the homework we don’t understand, emails to teachers, doctors visits, meltdowns and the thinking about how to make it all fit together so that joy can abound. Mothers, and those who truly love them, know I could go on and on. So, don’t allow your work as a mother to be minimized and stop overcompensating to get recognized.
Since emotionally bankrupt people will never stop making withdrawals-- You need to close their account. Walk away. You don’t owe them. Even financial institutions limit the number of times an account can be overdrawn. Banks lend with the absolute expectation that what they lend is coming back. In fact, they require an additional fee in the event you don’t return what you took. And after all that, if you still refuse to make good on the obligation, what does the bank do? THEY CLOSE YOUR ACCOUNT.
Today I am writing to reach the sensibilities and cognitive capabilities of good White folks. The power to change the status quo lies primarily with you. You need to say something... At your dinner tables, at your school board meetings, at the deli counter. You know racists. Your neighbors, family and friends express racially charged sentiments that apologetically end with, “you know what I mean.” Or “I don’t mean it like that. You know I’m not racist.” You must call them out.
Fast hard truth. Our kids don’t need to be friends in order for us to be friends. Step further: I really don’t even need to see your child for us to be friends. Like we can share stories about our children… We can talk about their grades… How much we love them…. How they get on our nerves… We can even go shopping for them together. And we can leave it right there.
