I wrote these words after learning of the death of Liam Galaty, a beloved 14-year-old boy whom I had known and loved since he was in preschool. Liam lived his life with compassion, dedication, joy, and courage. He died in his home on December 18, 2017. His death shook us to our core. The only thing I knew to do that night after my family had gone to bed, the only thing that brought me any comfort, was to write. I delivered these words of remembrance at Liam’s funeral on December 23 and later to the student body at his school. With the permission of his parents, Tanya Newkirk and Mike Galaty, I share my words here in our hope that those who have experienced loss by suicide may find some comfort and that others, especially young people, who need to hear how much they matter in the world will feel the web of love surrounding them. [Read more…]
If my son’s going to be from Mississippi
Jackson, Mississippi was still thawing when Former Governor William Winter took the stage for our state’s bicentennial celebration and the opening of the country’s first state-funded and state-sponsored civil rights museum.
Friday brought the biggest snowfall we had received in 35 years, and Saturday two Mississippi museums opened as we made a stand for teaching and honoring unveiled truth. In the opening of the Museum of Mississippi History and the Mississippi Civil Rights Museum, we said: This is our history, and we’re going to stop hiding it. This is the darkness, and as bright as the light may be, we won’t stare into it so long that we let it blind us to the darkness around us that still needs illumination. [Read more…]
Where imagination met reality in my birth
The story of my son’s birth was mysteriously erased from my computer. Centimeters of dilation lost, timeline lost, contraction history lost, direct quotes from my doctor lost. The medical story, the story of facts and numbers, vanished.
At first I despaired in the loss of history and record. I thought, “I need to write it as best I can again before I forget ALL of it!” But when I thought about re-writing the whole thing, it felt like a bore, like a labor I did not want to endure. Maybe that was the universe sending me a message: That story does not matter. Or, that story is not your story. There is another story underneath that story. A story of inner journey. A story of the senses. A story of imagination and the worn landscape of birth. [Read more…]