My daughter is back home from college and working at her old high school for another summer. It was so surreal driving her to school, it almost felt like she was a freshman again, not even a senior.
Then a stop at Aldi. It had just opened. Parking lot, still hush quiet. People opening their trunks or dropping their quarter in to pull out a cart. I thought for a moment (sometimes I just do in those moments) of the mass shootings in Buffalo. Can you believe it was 3 years ago? It is still tough for me because those people were minding their own business. Running errands, working. Looking at their phone. And someone (will not honor with a name) drove 3 and a half hours, a road trip to murder people that looked like me. Fathers, mothers, grandmothers, grandfathers, brothers, sisters, husbands, and wives, stocking shelves, picking out fruit, chatting, walking to their car. At that time, I worked with someone who used to live on that neighborhood, shopped at that store, knew someone who’d died, and oof, not good for an empath.
But I snapped out of it once inside, getting lost in my short list, looking forward to being back home, here at my desk. Writing.
This is my first normal week where my days off, are my days off. So I can get back into some kind of writing routine, and I am so excited. Working on a new piece that came to mind when at work and watching two women walking across the street. One pushing a baby in a stroller.
What did that visual tap into?
Aging, sibling rivalry, motherhood.
Not bad.
Also, my submission for the If You Ever anthology call was accepted! My first acceptance this year. But also only my second submission, so there is that. Ha!
I hope my fellow writers have a good flow today. Whether is an observation, a scene, journal entry, idea. Even just editing a piece involves writing. Take your wins, where you can!
What resonated with me in the passage we
“Will not honor with a name.”
That hit me hard. Usually and for many years we have unknowingly been honoring the demonic atrocities of these mentally ill people by giving exposing giving their horror a narrative by which their kingdom to stand. By naming not your sister you have erased their history. For this is why they have murdered to make the archive and historical narratives. Their kingdom feeds off of the barbarity and copycats are representations.
“Can you believe it was 3 years ago? It is still tough for me because those people were minding their own business. Running errands, working. Looking at their phone. And someone (will not honor with a name) drove 3 and a half hours, a road trip to murder people that looked like me. Fathers, mothers, grandmothers, grandfathers, brothers, sisters, husbands, and wives, stocking shelves, picking out fruit, chatting, walking to their car.”
Thank you for keeping alive the history of our survival and resilience. And never...” honor with a name!”