heated climate observation
Today’s nature walk brought us to watching two bird nests. Wonderment & wide eyes watching, looking & listening for four little birds destined to chirp beauty nestled within twigs of hope. We noted their location & vowed to quietly observe & check on them frequently without scaring mama bird away.
I’ve stayed somewhat quiet on social media about the death of Mr. George Floyd. My words seem small & lacking the depth that is deserved.
The nurse part of me has fixated on nine minutes-it’s so much longer than it sounds. I’ve witnessed medical miracles that took less time. This could have been so different & it should have been different. I wonder what kind of nurse Breonna Taylor could have been, would have been. A woman committed to saving others, she would’ve understood the gravity in those nine minutes. She would’ve been 27yo today-for nurses, that translates to simple party quickly honoring each other in the break room. Cake eaten off paper towels or ice cream in cheap hospital styrofoam cups, hugs reminding each other we are better as a team.
Ahmaud Arbery went jogging on a sunny, late winter/early spring day in Georgia. In the early pandemic days, he was being proactive to stay healthy. He was stalked & murdered. My own feelings irrelevant trying to fully understand the loss of life his family is still experiencing. I went for a run, trying to figure out exactly how fast & perfect you’re supposed to be outrun heaved bullets. I tripped on the outdoor track & wondered how many times I have unknowingly tripped & caused hurt to others. How do you even begin to undo a lifetime of blindness without acknowledging you benefited from someone else’s chains?
I ponder if the sidewalks in front of my house are safe for the mancubs to ride bikes-mainly because of speeding cars-to go to the corner store for a summer snack. I’ve been letting them spread their wings & going together to the store should be harmless. I pace, glancing out the window, waiting & watching for the collective giggles when my little men round the street corner heading home, snacks in their arms. Relief fills my heart. Trayvon Martin didn’t make it home. All he wanted was a snack.
If I’m honest, I wanted to look away, to not hear & see Mr. Floyd’s entire universe crash in & crush down. I didn’t want to see Mr. Arbery trying to escape after being hunted like prey. Deep down inside, I know I need to see them, to hear them. To hear a man begging for the comfort of his mama’s safe embrace. It needs to be seen, it needs to be heard. To acknowledge the lamentation of centuries of souls disregarded.
I’ve learned through the years that one of the most loving things I can do for someone in pain is to sit next to them, to sit with them and listen, let them speak the pain out loud. It’s not my place to define the pain. It’s my place to let them know they aren’t alone or abandoned. And I’m willing to say, if someone hasn’t told you that your life matters, I’m sorry. You do matter, you always have. Please feel that to the depth of your soul-you have always mattered.
Saying change is needed, but walking around like this isn’t a constant, earth-shaking tragedy perpetuates the flippant attitude that he didn’t matter, that centuries of people haven’t mattered, that God’s design of the human life doesn’t matter.
Out of my eye, I saw mama bird on a close by magnolia watching me as I peeked into her safe nest. She’s watching to see what I’ll do. Will I water the flowers around her nest or will I hurt her babies.
I returned inside as my husband was preparing for work. I inwardly wrestle as we tighten his kevlar a touch tighter, hug him a bit longer, beg him to stay safe once more. We remind each other that the shield is not only to protect him, but also to protect Breonna, Ahmaud, George, and Trayvon. Our eyes meet, he nods, and drives away.
I’ll pace tonight, stay on Twitter, fb live, and watch the news an unnerving length of time while I nervous clean and fold laundry. I’ll prayer walk our yard in the dark. I’ll pray for a world where our differences get acknowledged as strengths...and if I’m honest, I’ll pray for myself. That I’ll have eyes to see, ears to hear, and a heart that keeps listening and a soul to keep learning. I’ll pray for knowledge I may not have yet to teach these mancubs to become the men they should be.
In the morning, I’ll visit those two bird nests again. I’ll let mama bird show me how she cares for her babies. I won’t interfere. I’ll sit and observe and learn and listen for their beautiful song that makes this world a better place.
