Friday, April 15, 2011

Letter to my sons

After learning of the mother who drove her van off the road, taking her babies with her, my heart ached. And I began to think of the anguish and madness a woman must be feeling in order to kill her own children.
I can not understand it.

There have been times when I've wanted to run away for sure. Run away to find some peace and quiet. A chance to be alone and breath and think. But I can't imagine my life without them, my boys. And I can not bear the thought of their precious brown lives being cut short.
God forbid.

There is so much I want them to see and know. And now, in New York, there is a 10 year old, brown boy that will see and know life without his mother's love and protection. So for him, and for my sons, and for little brown boys that happen to be alone; here is my letter:


Dear Sons,

You are so special. Your life will change so many things in this world. One day your ideas will change people's minds. And your love will guide children toward truth and love.

I expect a lot from you. So I want you to be strong even when its hard. And people will need you to work even when you are tired. Be sure to work very hard, boys.

One day your strength and your endeavors will pay off. In time you will reap the rewards of your efforts.

Boys, some people will expect you to dress/think/talk/play a certain way because of how you look, or where you've come from. But we know, you and I, that you can dress/think/talk/play in any way that suits you. You are not a group, you are my beautiful son.

There is a voice in your heart, that is the voice that must guide you. Not the bullies. Ignore the bullies for they will always be hanging around wanting to mind your business. Do not let them. Your business/life/choices are your own to make.

And some days you will WIN, boys. Rejoice and give thanks. Because on other days you will cry. Cry, sons. Then wipe your tears away. And other days you will fall. Fall, sons. Then get back up, we don't stay down. Some days you will fail. Fail, sons. Then try again and again and again.

Win, cry, fall, fail, try; because this is how you will know that you are living well.

I love you, you can do this.

Mom