Sunday thoughts

I read or listen to the news only once daily, and try never to hear the White House briefings.  I do listen to our state governor as I respect him and feel that he is doing a very good job in very challenging times.  I am realizing that much of what I am missing are the small things that I took for granted.  In my daily life I did not recognize the magical of the minute.

I miss going to the Dunk's on our way to church and getting the kids their "second breakfast" while I get a cup of hot black coffee. Yeah, I like my coffee black.  And routinely my order would get messed up because I think most people order with cream and sugar. But seeing the familiar counter staff, waiting for the first sip of the hot brew while conversations swirled around me--I miss that.  I can make coffee here.  I do make coffee here.  (and it never has cream and sugar in it LOL) but I miss those moments when I would chat with the kids about their food choices of the day and get their input on which donut their big brother would like most.

I miss going to the library.  No lie, it was hard to fit in library trips this year.  The kids had so many activities that sometimes I felt stressed getting there.  I went mostly for Chet who likes to hold a "real" book, and who has all ready destroyed one Kindle.  But even though it was stressful to get there, I loved seeing the librarians. Most of them have known my kids their whole lives and watched them grow.  I loved the conversations. I loved wandering through the stacks choosing Chet's books.  He is still able to read during the pandemic. We have a large collection here at home and he has adapted to using a kids Kindle that has parental controls that will hopefully help keep him from destroying it.

I miss sitting in the sanctuary at church.  I usually sit in the same pew and there is a high window up to the left of where  I sit.  Our church has a very modern architecture.  Frankly it is not a really pretty building.  But I have spent years looking out that window as I meditate and listen to the music, the readings and the reflections.  There is a single branch from a tree that goes across in front of that window and I watch the leaves bud, green color and fall off. I watch the clouds scud behind it on windy days.  There are trees outside my windows here and I look at those too.  But there is a sense of absence and loss for that particular time and manner in which I marked a time in my week for over 20 years.

These are little things.  I know that.  And my post is not expecting pity or pats on the shoulder.  There are others facing much greater losses, and I hope that if I am truly blessed, losses such as these may be all that touch our family.

Rather, this is a reminder to myself. To never ever take for anything for granted again.  To embrace all the small joys I am offered and to offer as many to others as I am able.

Coming home from church. . .

I've been meaning to write this for a while and time just keeps getting away from me.  A few weeks back we were driving home from church.  As I came up the main street of our city,  I saw a van by the side of the road.  The doors were open and on the side walk was a man with two other men doing something to him.  I could not tell if he was being beaten or if he had fallen and they were trying to assist.

I believe that we are not islands and that we need to work together to help each other in this world.  So unlike all the other cars flying by, I pulled over.  I got my cell phone out and proceeded to get out of the car to see what was up.

As I approached I could tell that the man on the ground was someone who is like my Fiona.  He was raging and the two men were using safe holds to prevent him from running into traffic or harming himself or others.  He was definately not being beaten.  I asked in a quiet friendly voice if everything was okay and they assured me it was.  So I just got in our van and and came home.

Something that surprised me was that my kids were terrified when I got out of the car so we had a long talk afterwards. I reminded them of my martial arts training. I reminded them that I had my cell phone out and on so I could call 911 if I had to. I explained that the cell phone and 911 was not just for my safety but in case authorities were needed.  If the man was having a seizure for instance.  If the staff could not calm him.  If it had been a robbery or an assualt, it is still important not to drive by, turn a head or walk away.

I also pointed out that I tried hard to use my senses calmly when I approached.  For instance, I noticed as I walked closer that the van was not a mini van like we have.  It was one of the full sized vans that many programs for people with disabilities use. Fiona's home has one. Her Great School in the Big City had a number of them. I looked at the postures and made eye contact with the people.

I have always stopped when I have seen someone who might be in trouble.  And as a general rule, people have almost always stopped for me when I have needed assistance.  But I was sad that my kids response (and this included two adult kids) was one of anxiety. We do live in a world where care and alertness is necessary but this must be balanced by our need to live compassionately.

And Again. . .

48 hours and 2 more black men murdered.  I am probably the most positive person on the planet.  "Sail your ship with positivity" has been laughingly declared by my family to be my personal motto.  But I have no positivity tonight.  I have anger. I have fear.  I have an overwhelming sense of helplessness.

The repeated unwarranted killing of people of color keeps replaying like some bizarre twisted version of that old movie Ground Hog Day.  And I don't know what to do.  I don't know what to do to keep my children safe.  I literally don't go to sleep till I know Rob is home from work.  I have turned this into my reading time and I do enjoy that. But keeping things honest?  I am worried that something would happen and i would not know till there was a knock on the door.  I don't want to miss a call, a text, a chance to try and help if the need arose.

I worry that my kids, despite my oft repeated dictates of what to do if an officer stops, will push the envelope.  They are good kids. But they are kids.  At Rob's age, despite all my comments to the contrary, he is sure he is immortal.  I was his age.  I was once immortal too.  But I am white.  And while I have faced discrimination in regards to my gender or sexual identity, I have not been targeted the way people of color are.  I don't have to worry about DWB.

In a rather shocking wake up call I recently watched a video to share to my son's wall on how to make it home alive if a POC is pulled over by the police.  One of the tips?  Keep your license and registration on the dash or the visor or the cup holder.  Reaching for a wallet can be interpreted as reaching for a weapon.  In my white privilege world,I can keep those two items where ever I choose as long as I can reach them from the drivers seat of my vehicle.  My questions to police officers when I am pulled over are answered with courtesy as long as I ask with courtesy.  (disclaimer:  I received my first moving violation in 25 years because I got wildly confused at a round about over Memorial Day weekend.)  I honestly had to ask the officer what I did wrong as I knew speed was not a factor.

Will the video save his life?  I have no idea.  All I can do is try and that feels so much like tilting at windmills these days.


I am frightened by the fact that I can't come up with an action plan.   This is so systemic and so big, I can't figure out what to do to help change to come about. I am not a stick my head in the sand kind of gal.  But Facebook meme's are woefully inadequate.  Roll calls of the killed scroll through my feeds. I worry that someday one of my kids, or one of my extended family will be on the internet with a "Say their name, don't forget" tag.    But the pictures, the stories, most woefully the same,  somehow this is not scrolling through the minds and hearts of people who do have the power.

I was brought up to respect officers of the law.  And I know many officers in the city I live and work in.  I like them. I respect them.  But I look at them and wonder what they will see if my son walking home from work at midnight.  I am tired of dash cams going silent, body cams mysteriously loosening and not filming.  I am tired of  reading the dirt that gets thrown into the fray after every shooting.  Rap sheets from years past, as if prior mistakes justify death today.

I actually don't even know how to finish this post, that's how saddened and fearful my spirit is at this moment.

Staying Safe and Calling Home

Last night Rob worked as usual.  There was a big MMA fight and I knew that he and two friends were going to a local restaurant after work to watch.  He had plans to stay with the friend for the night as he didn't know when the fights would be done.  This was fine with us, he has stayed with the friend several times now.

However as he left, we reminded him as always that if anything ever happened that he wasn't comfortable with, to just call or come home.  No questions asked, just make the safe choice.  I have always worried about this with Rob.  He is so easy going, so hakuna matata that I have often wondered if he would look critically enough at a situation and see that it might not be a wise move to be part of it.

Last night he made the choice to call home.  He actually could get home but had forgotten his key and would need someone to let him in.  I am thrilled that he made the call.  He seemed relieved that we did follow the "no questions asked" plan.   I did hear him tell his younger siblings that he came home because his friends were going to go somewhere he didn't want to be part of.  He is of an age where making those decisions is so very important.

With Rob, food has always been comfort, security and proof of love.  Lissa asked if I would make chocolate chip pancakes for breakfast and I said yes.  I asked Rob (who is usually only eating healthy/fitness oriented things these days) if he wanted some too.  He did and he inhaled about 6 of them, along with my artful strawberry garnish, which was the nod to healthy eating!

Black Lives Matter

I feel lucky when I know people who can say with far more eloquence than I  why the phrase "all lives matter" bothers me so much.  Yes. All lives matter. But we are talking about the lives that are minimized, jeopardized and flat out ended daily in ways that "all other" lives are not.  It is a worry for me as a mom of kids of color.  I send my strong handsome young teen off to the Big City for college with a smile on my face and worry in my heart.  I watch my phone for the text that he is ready for me to pick up at the train.  I worry that the natural "immortal" feeling that teens have (and yes, I remember feeling that way too) could translate into a situation far more dangerous to him than any of mine were to me.

I worry that I have not prepared him adequately enough for being black in a world that does not see him the same way it sees me.  I know that to some extent my presence over the years has lent him an inadvertent corner of the white privilege blanket.  He isn't likely to be accused of shoplifting if he is standing with his white mom.  The same is not necessarily true if he is hanging out with skater pals in the big city.  This is not to say we have not had some issues; there have been. But by and large, the world has been pretty kind to him.

I am lucky that I have friends of color because my white friends don't see what I worry about.  They think "black lives matter" is obvious and that "all lives matter" is more reverential to life and speaks to inclusiveness. My efforts to explain are dismissed. "But YOUR son is so friendly and polite; nothing would happen  to Rob"  I hope with every facet of my being they are right. Statistics say other things though.

But a 12 year old playing in a park is not exactly a huge threat. Yet he was shot and killed without a word.  My Rob is kind and smart and handsome. He also works out and hangs out with kids who skateboard and may look "sketchy" to a certain segment of the population.  They will not see his smile. They will see his strength, his blackness, an implication of a threat that does not exist.If a 12 year old at play can be gunned down, what about strong 19 year olds?

Family members who love my kids have told me my worries are meaningless. That because I brought my kids up "right" I don't have to worry.  They seriously think all the other instances are a result of bad parenting?  Rendered speechless, I grew silent about the subject on line. And I grew angry at myself because if I as my kids parent can be rendered voiceless and powerless, how must so many other parents feel.  Parents who have lost children and who have found their children vilified in the media, their home lives and values questioned.

So, yes people. BLACK lives matter.  And please. Go read Kevin Hoffman at www.mymindonpaper.wordpress.com  Because he says it all with much great clarity than I do.

Talking. . .

So there were lots more conversations via text and Facebook with D last night.  He wrote that above all he did not want me to feel badly and then the flood gates of commuication were unleashed by him.  He has been essentially homeless since the baby was born, couch surfing and his fiancee and their baby are presently living out of state with her family as a result. He has no credit and could not get an apartment, she has bad credit and could not get an apartment.  They could not find someone to cosign.

I said that I work in housing and maybe I was butting in but that I would do everything I could to help them find housing.  When I was lucky enough to become Rob's mom, my family grew by more than just Rob. He and K and many many more were now in my mind, family.  So to please reach out (and I promised to not have it on facebook, which made him laugh) and i would do all I could. I do not want him to be homeless. He is a bright, kind and intelligent young man.

He said that he was grateful for any and all help and was in a very humbling place right now.  He said he considers me family and has for a long time.  Now to get to work on finding this young man a home.

Memorial Day Camping Fun

The whirlwind of life continues at its typical crazy speed!  Over Memorial Day weekend the kids and I went camping with friends of ours.  It is at a ski area in NH where they have a variety of activities that all our kids enjoy.  Tree top aerial adventures were the big hit this year for KC, Lissa and their 7 year old friend A.  It was amazing to me to watch them learn how to use carabiners and a trolley to do a zip line.  They traversed obstacles, walked on swinging logs and cheered each other on with enthusiasm and had an amazing time.  KC who is usually my timid guy was in the lead both times through the course, his feet sure footed from his dance training.

Lissa was a rock star on the climbing wall.  She truly climbs like a mountain goat--this girl is born for extreme sports I think!  Both times she did the climbing wall she chose the route that had the over hang that you had to get up and over.  Naturally, this was the hardest route, but honestly, she made it look easy.

Poor Rob had come because last year there was a skate park where he could do bike and skateboard tricks.  He loved that and was there all day every day last year.  This year they abolished the skate park but forgot to delete it from their website so we did not know until we arrived.  I admire the way he handles disappointments though. He is gracious and never pouts or rants.  He helped the littles out and spent time shooting pictures of the little kids.  He did try the 20 foot stunt jump a few times and he took the kids up the mountain on the scenic chair lift ride. He did the water balloon fight game with the kids as well.   He is not into rock climbing or the aerial tree top type things though. I love that he never complained or moaned about the loss of his favorite activity; he just found ways to participate.

Our campsite was beautiful, large, quiet, not too terribly far from the bathrooms. (always a plus when Lissa wakens me at 2 a.m.!)  The first night was really really cold--32 degrees, but after that it got warmer each day. 

We totally forgot one tote of our camping supplies so we left home my fire starters, my coffee pot and our cups.  Of the 3 items, the only one I missed was the coffee pot.  LOL  I still made a campfire and did not need the fire starters--old Girl Scout training is still in effect! We used small bowls as our "cups" and looked a bit like pictures one sees of Mongols when we were sipping our OJ but it worked.  I don't let forgetting something color an experience.  We are there to have fun and there is always a work around if you think out of the box a bit.

On the last day we were there I bought myself a ticket and did the 20 foot stunt jump.  It was a blast! I sort of forgot the pledge I made to my wife years ago when we expanded our family about not doing anything extremely dangerous.  My friend videod the jump too so there was, as they say, incriminating evidence!

After  long cold winter though, it felt amazing to be able to be outside for hours on end and we all had a really wonderful time. It may be the only camp out that Rob is able to come on this year depending on his work schedule.

He has been newly hired to work in the produce department of a local grocery store.  I am proud that he has a summer job, and so is he.  And this chain is known for being extremely good to its employees with bonus opportunities even for part time workers. I have a hard time wrapping my mind around camping without him--Rob is that really good camping helper who just knows exactly what to do without my even saying anything.

Giving our children voice

I have always thought that my kids understood that they NEVER have to put up with someone making them feel uncomfortable. I am not the mom who requires hugs if they don't want to give a hug.  We have talked about physical boundaries ad nauseum--perhaps in part because it is hard for my oldest to understand that concept.

Yet several weeks ago, my most vocal of children sat silently while someone made her feel uncomfortable.  I took my kids to the library to see a mobile planetarium show.  We were all excited to get our tickets and squeezed into the room sized inflatable where the show would take place.  If you have never been in one picture a giant round bounce house that has no windows and floor and you have the ambiance to a T!

There were quite a few adults sans kids who wanted to see this show. I had deliberately picked the  more mature showing as opposed to the toddler one with singing and such.  I wanted the actual science experience for my kids as they are fairly savvy on this subject.

As more and more people began to squeeze in, the space began to become more crowded. The fellow running it used a laser pointer so we could see and asked that the front row slide as far forward as possible to allow the last people to enter and have room.  I obediently slid forward.  KC and Lissa and Rob were just behind me.  I looked back and saw that their row had sort of slid back against the far wall. I could still see everyone. It was literally less than 5 feet away.

The show was amazing and all I heard about all day were the constellations, the planets and the way they showed the different stars in different hemispheres.  Right up till bed time when I walked in to gather kids for bed and KC looked at me and said "why did you leave us at the Planetarium/'  I explained that I never left them and that I was right there the whole time. That he when he said that Lissa needed to tell me something that she had just told him.

Apparently the man who was sitting next to my daughter was physically closer to my daughter than she was comfortable with. (she said he kept putting his leg on her, though it is not clear if that means his leg bumped her or whether it was over her.  He also spoke to her several times and said things that she felt were weird and made her uncomfortable.  When she quoted what he said, it was "what did you do today." The words are 'harmless' but I believe strongly that when something makes you feel that something is not right there is a reason for it and one should heed that feeling.

It is pretty clear from lots of calm talking (well calm on the outside) that she was not molested. The 3 kids moved away from the guy as far as they could, though Lissa did not tell her brothers either why she wanted to move.  Because she did not say anything to me, I am left not knowing if this was simply a grown up who was not real comfortable sitting on the floor and accidently bumped her, or if in other circumstances, something darker could have resulted.

What IS clear was what shocked me the most.  My daughter was silent for this whole event.  My outspoken, strong opinionated princess lost her voice when an adult invaded her space. The upside of this is that we talked a lot about how I would totally have been fine, if she had stood up in the middle of the show and said "stay out of my space" or said "I need to change my seat," or just walked over people to get to my lap. We talked about when something just doesn't feel right, that it is important to get out of the situation,even if you don't know exactly why.

I read a great article this morning about how important it is to use the correct words for all body party, including "private" parts.  I have always done that.  But I always thought I had given  my kids, and most expecially my daughter the strength to leave a situation they felt was unsafe.  Clearly this is not so and I have more important work to do in this regard.