To Neda

I woke up Saturday morning to the sound of my cell phone’s alarm clock. I turned it off quickly so that I wouldn’t accidentally wake up my son Caedmon. I rolled around for a while and waited for him to get up. When I finally heard him talking in his crib I got him and we went downstairs to fix some breakfast. I didn’t think much about the events of the day. I didn’t have a lot hanging on my mind. I was simply enjoying the morning with my child. Shortly my thoughts turned to you.

What did you do Saturday morning? Did you have breakfast with your father? Did you contemplate the events of the day? The grave events that were about to take place? How did you picture it all? I know that I would have pictured it differently. I would have pictured people with signs marching around and chanting cheesy slogans in hopes that someone may notice, that maybe my voice would be heard. Maybe even hoping that a news camera would catch me.

Did you think about dying? Did you think about what was actually going to happen? The rumors were that things could get violent. Did you know that they would or did you assume that they would not?

The government banished the media from your country. You probably were not expecting to be found by a news camera, but you were found by a camera. Was it as you hoped it would be? Was it as you thought it might be?

I am sorry. I am sorry that you lived in a place where you had to be afraid of your own government. I am sorry that you had to suffer a painful death. I am sorry that your family now bears the burden of your death. I am sorry if this is not what you were expecting. If this wasn’t what you thought was going to happen.

Even though I am terribly sorry, I hope that you are not. I hope that you are not sorry about your death for a cause that you believed in. I hope that you are not sorry that you showed the world that one person, especially one woman, can make a difference. I hope you are not sorry that you have now become the face of this resistance and the rally cry for hope.

Please know that I hope that you did not die in vain. I hope that your voice is not only heard, but listened to. I hope that your family can take some kind of solice in the fact that you died for a cause, and I hope they do not stop believing in that cause now that you are gone.

I am not sure that I can join you in your fight. I’m not sure that I can ever completely understand what you were fighting for. I can join you in your fight against the oppression. No matter what your views are you did not deserve to die. I can stand with your brothers and sisters in opposition to the cause of their suffering. I hope that because of you the world can join me in that stand.

Thank you Neda, may you never be forgotten.

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