Sweet boy, my heart is ripped out of my chest.
I nurse my sweet warm baby and tuck my other two to sleep and they are the age you and your brother were just last week as the boat carrying you flipped.
At night I cannot sleep. Knowing that so many other babies and little "Aylans" are displaced, scared, hungry, afloat in stormy waters of a scary and unfair world.
As a child the world is black and white.
You should treat others the way you want to be treated.
That is what adults teach you.
Then you become an adult and realize that adults don't want to live that way. They are too busy being practical and worrying about the bottom line and politics.
People are too worried about protecting resources.
And I understand that so many people fear terrorism.
But seeing your sweet little body face down on the beach how could anyone not just see the humanity?
How could anyone not just see the little boy that was growing and needed to be protected?
To assume every Syrian, from the father trying to protect his family down to the wife desperately clinging to her hungry and scared children is a terrorist is fear based and ludicrous... If that's the case then all Americans are mass shooters or millionaires.
And we are far from it sweet boy.
We are also mothers and fathers. Little children longing for a bike and scared of the unkown, needing to be protected.
Oh sweet Aylan, until now I was completely unaware.
I saw the swelling problem as a backdrop behind welcoming a new baby to my home. And since 2011 it has slowly grown and the massive outcry from Syria is silently deafening.
I met a woman at the park last summer. We sat at the table while our children played and I could tell she was unsure of how I would receive her.
I tried to make her feel at ease and asked questions which quickly led us to her family in Syria and how every last member of her family is now displaced all over the world, Egypt, Germany..
We exchanged numbers though I knew she was about to go back and visit family.
And even now I haven't heard from her again, my texts unanswered amidst a sea of questions.
So as I lie there awake at night sweet Aylan thinking of your short life and your father's desperation and grief, I also think of a woman afloat in a sea of grief here at a park in my own town... Unsure of her nephews' and family's safety.
Sweet Aylan you woke a world and I hope somehow your father in all of his grief can somehow know that your life made a huge impact. The life of your sweet mother and your 5 year old brother as well.
Though short, your lives awoke a slumbering world to the painful reality of a crisis at hand.
Rest in peace sweet Aylan. You will be mourned by the whole world.