George Floyd Memorial a gut-wrenching confirmation of America’s continuing Black genocide

My husband and I took a road trip to my oldest sister-in-law's house in Minnesota with our youngest son and his lady the last week of August.

Thinking about how badly I'd been needing to get away from it all, I shelved my traveling-during-COVID paranoia and agreed to the drive up for a surprise, early birthday party for my nephew on Saturday, 8/22. But instead of getting away from it all -- I drove right into it.

Arriving on Friday evening, we unwound at a laid back, socially distanced, driveway-hang-out that night at my oldest niece's house with her little family of three, her younger sister, their mom and my other sister-in-law who'd flown in from New York for the party. Unlike the 100-degree temperatures we'd been suffering in Texas, the weather was GREAT as we sat under the stars talking, laughing, drinking and catching up (not via Zoom for a change).

Because we were a part of the surprise, my nephew wasn't invited but, we'd been texting back-and-forth all evening about what he'd been doing in the community since George Floyd's murder (unbeknownst to him, I WAS in Minnesota).

Then, oddly, I got this text from him at 7:25 pm (which I read to everybody else). He said, "Listening to Ranky Tanky and thinking of you. Love you guys and miss you all so much. Wish I had my family here with me. Fuck Covid!" Then he uploaded Ranky Tanky's, "That's Alright" (Long story for later about our…