SLICE OF LIFE

My boys have been away at school
I have not seen them for eleven long months.
I have so looked forward to having them home.
To dishes in the kitchen sink.
Dirty socks on the floor in family room.
Endless noise. 

And yet this is a very hard week to parent.

For eleven years
I have loved my chocolate-skinned sons as best as I can.
Cooked and cleaned and driven.
Showed up at practices and games
Attended parent teacher conferences
and court room hearings
Claimed scriptures.
Cried and prayed.
Done without so they could have.
Over and over and over again.


And yet tonight.
I am not their mother.
We are not family. 

Instead,
I am one of them.
The other.
The enemy.

I search for explanations.

I cannot imagine what it might have been like
to be that young police officer
in an urban neighborhood
on a hot summer night.
I do not know what really happened.
Why he would choose to point a gun
at a not-yet-man-child. 

And I cannot hope
to understand
the grand jury-
hours spent
listening to testimony
poring over documents
and photographs
to arrive at
a decision
that pleases no one
and can never bring back
a mother's fallen child.

I am left
sitting at the kitchen table
trying to find words
to explain injustice
to apologize 

to my chocolate-skinned sons.