There's one place that all the people with the greatest potential are gathered, and that's the graveyard.
There, lie our ancestors, our enemies, and our friends. There, lies Breonna Taylor. A 26-year-old American citizen murdered by the people she paid to protect her right to live.
Today is her birthday.
They say that Heaven and Hell are not determined by your actions on Earth, but by how you’re remembered by the living. So on her birthday, we’ll remember her as she was.
She was a daughter. A friend. A niece.
She was a civil servant from Kentucky who loved movies and playing cards.
She was a woman in America with dreams and hopes, and surely regrets and fears.
She was a child of God.
Blessed to walk his earth in the shade of his son, she was the manifestation of his sacrifice.
She was said to be kind, intelligent, and full of laughter. She young and she was invigorated.
She was murdered. She was victimized. She was robbed of her truth. In a split second, she was stripped of every justice promised to her.
Her death, unavenged. Her legacy, not yet written. She died as her promise began to take shape.
Today is her birthday, she would have been 27. So we shall remember her as she was.
Deserving of more time. Entitled to the greatest love. Not yet 27.