The day started out bright as summer, and then rapidly darkened as a thunderstorm rolled in. I could see the lightning even with my eyes closed and heard the thunder growling. I opened the blinds to take it all in as the rain began to flood down. I could even feel the rain splashing on me through the window. As it happened I was dripping breast milk, but it could have been rain, or tears falling out of my eyes from a heart tugged open. I tasted the drops. The taste is surprisingly sweet like warm marshmallow milk.

My heart is aching for the nation, for the friends and family of George Floyd, and for those traumatized by the events of George Floyd’s disturbing and tragic death. So much time has passed and seemingly so little with regard to racial police brutality has changed since Rodney King was relentlessly beaten at the hands of four police officers when I was in middle school. A year later the officers were aquitted by a predominantly white jury, inciting those citywide riots that are burned into my memory. “People, I just want to say, can’t we all get along? Can’t we all get along?” pleaded the woke Mr. King on the third day of the 1992 Los Angeles riots. Black lives matter. Why is that a hard one to reconcile and move forward with the important task of mitigating global socioeconomic inequities, the viral pandemic, pollution, and climate change? Why systemic hatred? Why hatred? Why greed? Why arrogance? This is what I repeatedly tell my son regarding bullies, “they just didn’t get enough love when they were little.” So I’m doing my best to love my children as much as my blood sweat milk and tears allow.

Tonight I’m holding a candlelight vigil at home, amidst city order of 5pm to 5am curfew and state order of Stay Home Stay Healthy. Meanwhile the sky weeps tears all day and into this night of unremitting rain. Somehow it’s still a perfect day, I reflect, as I share hot chocolate, marshmallow cuddle milks and my love with Lady Kitty by the fire.