My Heart Hurts


“Darkness cannot drive out darkness; only light can do that. Hate cannot drive out hate; only love can do that.” MLK Jr.

For a writer who usually finds the right words easily, I have struggled today. My heart hurts for two families who have the deaths of their loved ones being played out for all to see, as they try to make sense of the events and deal with their grief. My heart hurts for the young girl, in the back seat, who had to witness her father dying. My heart hurts for Alton Sterling’s five children. My heart hurts for the police officers who do the right thing every day, want to protect and serve, and feel affected by the ones who don’t. My heart hurts for the five, innocent souls in Dallas. My heart hurts for everyone who now feels afraid to live because of the color of their skin. My heart hurts for those who spew hatred on social media, saying the one man deserved it because of his criminal record. My heart hurts for the girl at the store today, in front of me, who said to her friend, “White people don’t get the sadness.” You’re wrong. I, too, feel the same injustice you are, and stand next to you, not as a white woman, but a human being who wants all human beings to be treated the same.

My heart hurts…

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I Cleaned Out My Car and Here’s What I Found

 

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Yesterday, we didn’t have any plans. Nowhere to go. I was antsy. I was tired of reading the same book ten times in a row and being the baby with the playhouse family. I needed to get out of the house. And then it hit me.

“Girls, do you want to go to the car wash?” I asked.

The car wash. A win-win. The girls would be entertained, and I would have a few minutes of peace to play on my phone.

*Squeals of delight from the three-year-old. “YAY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Car wash!!!!!!”

The kid’s obsessed. If she’s not begging to take the car there, she’s constructing a car wash out of blocks, or whatever, for her toy cars. I foresee her owning or working at one when she’s grown.

Anyway, we all climbed into the car, with more excitement coming from me about leaving prison the house.

The outside of the car truly didn’t need to be washed, but as we were driving, I took notice of the interior’s destruction.

After our amazing trip through the rotating brushes, it was time to head over to the vacuum and more importantly, the garbage can.

If you’re bored today and have nothing else better to do, I categorically listed what I found, and threw away, in my landfill on wheels:

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