The woman in front of me had been reading

Today I am thinking about Wanda Cooper-Jones. About Gloria Darden. About Sybrina Fulton. About Geneva Reed-Veal. About Gwen Carr. About Lesley McSpadden. About Samaria Rice.

About the mothers who have lost their children, but who have never stopped mothering.

About the mothers who didn’t make it, and about the ones who did. About what the richest of them had in common with the poorest.

Today I am thinking about the motherless children. About the ones whose mothers were too much. About the ones whose mothers were not enough. About the ones who knew their mothers. About the ones who didn’t.