Saturday, March 24, 2012
Yesterday, on the anniversary of her death, we lit a candle for Meazi and Melese's mother. The kids said very sad, and very profound things while we did it. My heart broke into a million pieces as they spoke. How will they ever be happy people? They have lost so much. Their lives are confusing in so many ways. They are strong, but I can't help but feel depressed for them. March has been a struggle for them. Melese has been stuffed into a too small Ergo as I tried to comfort him. The minute he settled into it, he began asking me questions about Ethiopia; "How old was I there mommy?" "Where did I sleep Mommy?" "Where were you Mommy?" The kids are anxious. I am anxious and I am sad. My clothes are too tight, and I can't sleep through the night.
Trayvon. Trayvon's story has immobilized me. I can barely keep my kids safe in the carpool line. How, oh how, will I ever prevent them from being shot to death while buying candy? They like M&m's, and Jolly Ranchers. Almost every jacket they own is a hoodie. Maybe they were safer in Ethiopia.
I read this the other day: Today I just want to remind everyone that March (as well as September) can be rough on those who are prone to depression. If you're upset or frustrated or anxious or sad and you don't know why, don't be too hard on yourself. It could just be the rotation of the earth. (That's not hippie speak. That's science. It has something to do with the rapid change in light during this time of year and how our brains process that change [which is the CliffsNotes version of how my own psychiatrist explained it.])
I don't think it is the rotation of the earth. I think it is the murder of a young black boy. I think it is violence, racism, and loss, that has me stuck.
There are bright lights in this darkness I feel. At this moment the kids are in the tub harvesting a huge vat of honey from the honeycomb Steven just brought home. This comes just in time as we have eaten all of our honey. Every single last drop. Oatmeal has gone uneaten. Toast cries sadly from the plate, ignored. That will change today.
Today I am inspired by sweet things and by sweet friends who help me feel less stuck. Friends like Betsy and Tanya who remind me that we are not powerless on the earth, that we can band together and make a difference. Honey in my tea. Oil in my stuck wheels. Light in the darkness.