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2020-06-09 - 1:46 p.m.

my uncle had a bad encounter with police during a routine traffic stop. this was shortly before protests over the murder of george floyd brought the country to its knees. he was driving an old farm vehicle with a broken taillight. he has neurological issues. he is an old, frail man.

the officer thought he was drunk. when my uncle asked the man to put on a mask and gloves before administering a breathalyzer, the officer dragged him out of the car and called for backup.

he's trying to get the body cam footage to figure out what happened next, but it's disappeared into "internal affairs."

he is not sure if he had a seizure, or maybe blacked out and tried to fight off the cops. the last thing he remembers is repeating, "this hurts!" as the four officers holding him down responded by tightening the restraints on his arms to the point of causing nerve damage.

he says the world does not seem real to him anymore. he keeps calling my mom to walk him through mindfulness exercises over the phone, but then all he wants to do is talk about this poor young man he met when he came to in the drunk tank - a veteran with one arm who lost his sobriety during the coronavirus shutdown. he wonders if he could find out who he is, maybe pay his rent for a couple of months, or help him out with groceries.

this is the part where i just sit and stare past my keyboard into the middle distance. i am out of words.

* * *

reading: books to the babies.
listening to: mamoru fujieda's "patterns of plants."
working on: only disposable and consumable things - meals, and braided flower crowns, and keeping up with the weeding and the laundry and the dusting. i don't want to make and keep something that will remind me of this time forever. i don't have the focus to create art.
in the garden: it is a good year for blueberries and bearded iris. i repotted all my houseplants and moved them outside.

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