It’s Time To Mourn
A few days ago, my dear friend and I went to Grenfell Tower. She frequently makes this pilgrimage from her home nearby to speak the names of those who perished on that awful night. For me, as an infrequent visitor to London, it was the first time I had set eyes on the blackened building. We walked the surrounding streets, past the church which hasn’t closed its doors since the fire broke out, bedecked with yellow ribbons, knitted yellow hearts, photographs of the missing and dead, teddy bears, and handwritten cards and messages.
