Another one of my son’s high school friends was murdered.
He was in town for their 20-year high school reunion.
He went to get some food and someone came up to him and killed him. Shot him while his daughter and family waited for the food to come, instead they got the unthinkable that he wasn’t coming back home, he was not ever coming back home because someone had decided to play God as my son said.
So here I sit, in a different place than the last time this happened to one of his high school friends. I have the black folder project (may need to update the booklet, but I have it and can roll with it) but now I also can provide life insurance if someone needs it…and everyone needs it.
Somehow my heart feels like it is on the floor outside of my body. It feels kind of hard to breath. Every mother knows this feeling. At least every “so called black” mother does (another day for why I put so called black in quotes). It is heart wrenching. It is not your child but you feel some level of anguish for the mother of that child. It is just heart wrenching.