I continue to think about these recent tragedies. Continue to turn them ‘round in my head. Continue to think of them from one million miles away and one centimeter away. From all perspectives it’s loss. From all perspectives it is utterly sad and utterly senseless.
I think of past conversations on race I’ve had with my closest and how (mostly) terribly bad they went. How I was too much for them. How they were too much for me. How this particular topic seemed to be where every ounce of grace and understanding and love halted. And that, I think, is where I feel the most despair. I always think this is the black death that will be the straw that breaks the camel’s back. This is the one where scales fall from the blind’s eyes. This is when our unified white grieving finally begins. I want to believe that’s true this time around. But it wasn’t true all the other times. So it seems like people will just keep dying senseless deaths.