We stayed inside at Port Isabel for more than two hours – much longer than the 45 minutes we had been promised. When I finally went to bed that night, I thought about something the mothers had told me – something that will likely haunt me for a long time.
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“The mothers say that they can hear babies cry at night.”
Keening.
The word to describe that sound is keening, and it’s usually the wails of misery one makes after the death of a loved one; but it seems to me that being ripped away from one’s parents as a young child would probably produce the exact same kind of agony.
I am so damn disgusted with so many of my countrymen right now; this is light years beyond “not okay.”
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