A Question That Feels Like Love

This summer, when Philando Castile (a black man who looked a little like my husband) was shot.

This summer, when Mr. Castile was shot (on a road that my husband and I often drive, close to our apartment and close to his work) by a police officer.

This summer, when protesters gathered at the Governor’s mansion (close enough that we could walk to the Justice Occupation) to cry out for justice.

There were two people who asked me a question that  felt like love.

“How are you and Richard feeling after the shooting and the protests? How is it all affecting you?”

This week, as Hurricane Matthew squeezes between Jamaica and Haiti. Two different people asked me another question that felt like love.

“How is your family in Jamaica? Are they OK? Have they been impacted by the storm?*”

I don’t share this to shame people who haven’t asked the question.  I share this because I felt loved, respected and cared for by the people who asked the questions. I want to thank them. I share it too because I want to do better.

I want to be the kind of person who checks in when something might be impacting my friends and family.  I want to be the kind of person who asks, “How is this affecting you? How are you holding up? How is your family?”

Because there is something about being asked that feels a lot like love and I want people to know that I love them.

Help me to do better.

*Our family is doing fine, they live pretty far away from the worst of the storm.