Someone took the purple ribbons down in the middle of the night. It wasn’t anyone who put them up, it wasn’t the city (unless they work overtime). It was most likely some crabby person who got sick of being reminded of the fact that an innocent little girl died for no apparent reason. It was probably someone who didn’t want to think of unpleasant things during the holiday season. Whoever it was, I hope they never have to meet this mean Mama Bear who will tell them how heartless it is to take down something that is meaningful to a little boy who lost his sister and best friend.
Those ribbons. My son said that they made him feel like people cared. They made him feel like people still remembered Brooke. While I knew they had to come down one day, I felt that we should at least have some say in when they did. I even thought that perhaps it would haven been therapeutic for us to remove a few ourselves. Maybe with a some of the same good people who put them up. But that will never happen because some coward took them down in the dark. And that person probably doesn’t even know us.
Blake didn’t notice they were down today when I took him to school. It’s likely he will when I pick him up this afternoon. I’ve been thinking all day about what to tell him and I’ve come up with this:
Those ribbons were put up to show us how much people cared about Brooke, and continue to care about our family. I still see ribbons on those trees, and I always will. But I see more. I see kindness in the faces of our friends and neighbors. To me, it’s like they are all wearing big purple ribbons. Forever.