[img]1812|right|Basil Kimbrew||no_popup[/img]Basil Kimbrew did many of us a special favor yesterday.
For those who of us who clock 80 miles an hour from the time we leave the bathroom in the morning until we reach the bedcovers after nightfall, Mr. Kimbrew reminded us of one of life’s crucial principles:
Periodically, we are obligated to pause at length, to reflect deeply beneath the surface on the piercing pain and nearly unbearable sorrow being quietly endured by people in or near our lives.
After reading the poignant, heart-heavy 35-word missive below that he sent out to his network yesterday, you should agree with me that Mr. Kimbrew is a glowing example for those of us guilty of serial inattention.
Besides being a political consultant and master chef, Mr. Kimbrew serves the media as an astute purveyor of black political life, mainly in Southern California.
You will feel you know him, too, after digesting and reflecting on his beautiful prose, written so elegantly with the fingers of his wounded heart:
My first-born son, Rueshawn Kimbrew, would have been 42 today. I know you are watching over your brother Michael and sister Ramla. Happy birthday, Son. I miss you so much. RIP.
Your Dad,
Basil Kimbrew
