letter

‘People patted me on the back. ‘How good of you to befriend this black boy!’ they said, without acknowledging you.’: Man pens letter to childhood friend, ‘I’m speaking up now, I hope you can hear me’

“I was in your presence when the n-word was used, on multiple occasions. I said nothing. You came to my white church. You stayed in my white home, ate at my white table. An occasional visit to your world was all my whiteness could warrant, yet you were expected to live in mine. Us white folks stole your oxygen, long before ‘I can’t breathe.'”

‘It’s day 721 of not seeing you. You aren’t something we can pack up, put in a box and label with a Sharpie. You are our son.’: Mom’s grief journey after losing military son, ‘I miss you’

“The lady at the thrift store bravely asked about how we were doing. And you know what? I didn’t lie. I didn’t say good. I thought, ‘Wow, it has been over 2 years. How can that be?’ I found your box of baby clothes and the blankets Grandma made you. You are everywhere here, and at times I don’t want to live in this place anymore.”

‘You’d look like me, I was sure. Curly blonde hair, blue eyes, chubby cheeks. I was lucky.’: Mom pens emotional tribute to daughter she miscarried, ‘I needed to lose you to find me’

“I flushed with my eyes sealed shut. I cried more tears than I knew possible. ‘I’m so sorry,’ I said. What kind of mother flushes her baby? I hoped I was wrong. I hoped you were still there. But I knew. A mother always knows. Everyone kept apologizing. I didn’t know why because it wasn’t their fault. It was mine. I had one job, to protect you, and I couldn’t even do that.”

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