Saying Goodbye is important. Whether it be while our family is living, past, or currently passing. There
are things that we feel as humans that at times feel impossible to express with words. Towards the end,
somehow we find the words we want to say.
My husband was given some bad news this week. His mom, his biggest fan, the woman who raised and
loved him when no one else would, was not going to make it through the week. After a series of some
strange medical events her body is functioning, but her brain is no longer. Tomorrow we are making the
drive to meet his sister and say goodbye. I dread this for him. I think that it is necessary, I just dread it.
Life is precious. I have been so blessed this far in life to not suffer too much pain in loss. I have lost a
couple of friends, 2 grandads, a Memac, and numerous other relatively important people in my world.
Though the people who know my heart, and would love me unconditionally are still here. I try as often
as possible to tell them how much they mean to me, how much I enjoy spending time with them, and
how much an absence of their life would be felt. I encourage everyone to do that. Have a plan for your
passing and make sure that the ones you leave behind know how you feel, we are not promised our next
breath.
Thursday, June 4, 2020
Tuesday, June 2, 2020
Seasons of Change
As I get older, I find myself drawn to a much simpler life with a much smaller circle. For 17 years, I have prided myself on having a very large and diverse group of friends. If you ask any of them, I have been fairly persistent about reaching out. When I was single, I reached out every couple of weeks. As I fell in love, it would be every couple of months. This last year it has probably been even less than that. I try to reach out on birthdays, some holidays and to share a memory if it pops up on my time hop.
I think one of the hardest things to realize is that even though you love and respect each other; the things you value- family, religion, politics – can be very different. I have changed. I am not the same person I was 5 years ago, hell I am not even the same person that I was last year! I live for weekends on my parent’s farm – grilling steaks, taking naps, working puzzles and watching fireflies. The highlight of my social nights are “Ladies Night Out” at the Symphony and dinner with a girlfriend. Date Night (while still very important to my husband and I) now can easily consist of Door Dash Mexican and the latest Netflix movie. Don’t get me wrong – I still love to travel. I still love to go to the beach or head out on the lake for the day. But for the most part, I enjoy those things because I go with people I love and I can relax while socializing.
The days of going to a party (or even to a bar for that matter) are so distant in my past that I can’t even imagine going now. Bowling every once in a while, hitting a winery and day drinking with my girls or drinking games during a big football game – maybe, but I can say with certainty - You will never again find me out at 2am trying to find a ride home.
I had a fabulous “end” to my partying days. In the months leading up to my wedding we had an Engagement Fiesta, an I Do BBQ, a Bridal Brunch and the most epic bachelorette weekend I could’ve ever imagined. I think those parties (and marrying Ray in front of everyone I love) made the “easing out” of my reckless years a very smooth transition.
Last weekend I spent Friday-Monday enjoying my family. Playing board games with my uncles and cousins, drinking coffee (with bourbon) and eating BLT’s early mornings with my dad, working puzzles with my mom, getting to know my brother’s new girlfriend, chopping endless vegetables, enjoying my dad’s famous pork tenderloin (with the white sauce), watching the sunset over the rolling hills, sending off candle lit lanterns high into the air, and piling in the truck after dark to see if the awesomeness of the fireflies is out in full force.
My hope for all of my girlfriends, past and present, is that they slow down and love the moments surrounding them. Let Sunday morning coffee bring you just as much joy as the Jager bombs at the club used to, let laughing at your kids and their wildly goofy imaginations replace laughing at your drunk friends falling out of their chair. This is the hand we have been dealt. Enjoy your parents and siblings if you are able, take a minute to watch your kids with wonder, enjoy meals with your significant other as often as possible. It may not feel as wild and crazy as your life once felt, but the feeling of fullness and contentment is incomparable.
I think one of the hardest things to realize is that even though you love and respect each other; the things you value- family, religion, politics – can be very different. I have changed. I am not the same person I was 5 years ago, hell I am not even the same person that I was last year! I live for weekends on my parent’s farm – grilling steaks, taking naps, working puzzles and watching fireflies. The highlight of my social nights are “Ladies Night Out” at the Symphony and dinner with a girlfriend. Date Night (while still very important to my husband and I) now can easily consist of Door Dash Mexican and the latest Netflix movie. Don’t get me wrong – I still love to travel. I still love to go to the beach or head out on the lake for the day. But for the most part, I enjoy those things because I go with people I love and I can relax while socializing.
The days of going to a party (or even to a bar for that matter) are so distant in my past that I can’t even imagine going now. Bowling every once in a while, hitting a winery and day drinking with my girls or drinking games during a big football game – maybe, but I can say with certainty - You will never again find me out at 2am trying to find a ride home.
I had a fabulous “end” to my partying days. In the months leading up to my wedding we had an Engagement Fiesta, an I Do BBQ, a Bridal Brunch and the most epic bachelorette weekend I could’ve ever imagined. I think those parties (and marrying Ray in front of everyone I love) made the “easing out” of my reckless years a very smooth transition.
Last weekend I spent Friday-Monday enjoying my family. Playing board games with my uncles and cousins, drinking coffee (with bourbon) and eating BLT’s early mornings with my dad, working puzzles with my mom, getting to know my brother’s new girlfriend, chopping endless vegetables, enjoying my dad’s famous pork tenderloin (with the white sauce), watching the sunset over the rolling hills, sending off candle lit lanterns high into the air, and piling in the truck after dark to see if the awesomeness of the fireflies is out in full force.
My hope for all of my girlfriends, past and present, is that they slow down and love the moments surrounding them. Let Sunday morning coffee bring you just as much joy as the Jager bombs at the club used to, let laughing at your kids and their wildly goofy imaginations replace laughing at your drunk friends falling out of their chair. This is the hand we have been dealt. Enjoy your parents and siblings if you are able, take a minute to watch your kids with wonder, enjoy meals with your significant other as often as possible. It may not feel as wild and crazy as your life once felt, but the feeling of fullness and contentment is incomparable.
Monday, June 1, 2020
Strange and Trying Times
What a strange season of life this is. We are about 75-80 days into a pandemic. On March 16th, 2020, our city of Owensboro shut all restaurants and churches and schools down to prevent the spread of a novel coronavirus (COVID-19). Social media opinions were polarizing. There were right wing/left wing opinions on whether or not shutting down the country was a good idea. Our governor, Andy Beshear, was on the liberal side of the fence wanting to shut down everything early, trying to shield Kentucky from the rapid spread of this disease. There are still varying opinions on how dangerous this virus is, how it was introduced to people, and the role the media played in the hysteria. For the first time in my lifetime, the NCAA tournaments were cancelled. The NBA was effectively shut down. Concerts were cancelled, college campuses went to strictly online courses, and Disney World was closed for the duration of 2020. It was madness.
A couple of weeks ago, in early May, videos of a young black man who was gunned down while jogging this February, began circulating through the media. Both the MSM and social media helped this video go viral. Three white men under the guise of “neighborhood watch” chased down and shot this young unarmed black man, and as of May 2020 they had still not been arrested or convicted. Then a young black female police officer was shot in her home in the middle of the night because the police “raided” the wrong apartment. Again, no arrests were made, no one was held accountable. And then, the final straw, video surfaced of a middle aged black men being murdered in broad daylight- on the street, in front of on-lookers. There were 4 police and one man, face down in the street while the officers kneeled on him until he took his last breath. The video was gut-wrenching. You could hear him beg “please you are killing me, I can’t breathe” and still the officers were unrelenting, stoic almost. No arrests were made, no charges were filed, for almost a week. Still today, only one officer has been charged. Since that time, the streets of major cities have been filled with protests. People protesting that “Black lives matter.” I am ashamed. I am ashamed of my country. I am ashamed of my justice system. I am ashamed of the racism of some people with the same color of skin as me.
Because of my white privilege it isn’t fair of me to speak up and say things like “all lives matter” or “I see no color” or even how I truly feel which is “this is not a black and white thing, this is a right and wrong thing.” Because of my white privilege, I will never have to be pulled over for a traffic stop and have my fear be more than a ticket. Because of my white privilege, I can choose whether to stand up for this issue or to remain seated silently. But let me tell you, now is NOT the time to be silent. All POC are watching us. They are on high alert. They need to know which side RIGHT/WRONG, BLACK/WHITE, RACIST/ANTIRACIST. Because to them, if you sit silently not acknowledging what is happening to them, you are on the opposite side.
I am married to a proud, black man. A hardworking and kind black man. A man who would stand up and die for me, for his kids, but also for his race and the injustices that they are experiencing. I hope like hell it never comes to that. But it is a fear of his, and because of that it is a fear of mine.
There are so many divisive tactics being used. There are videos being played over and over again of violence and looters. Yet the majority of protestors are peaceful. ANTIFA has been bussing in people by the droves to incite violence and to make the outcries of the oppressed be muffled and to give the police a reason to meet violence with violence. The stories that warm my heart are of the deputy that marched with the people in Flint, MI. The group of young black men who made themselves human shields for the officer that was separated from his other officers. The group of young black Americans who formed a human line in front of stores to prevent looting and further violence. The group of young white protestors, in Louisville, who formed a human chain between the young black protestors and the police preventing either side from being violent. All of the videos of the non-corrupt cops kneeling in solidarity with the peaceful protestors. All of the black leaders wanting to hug and shake hands with some of LOE to show that not all are filled with hate.
I don’t think that the black community wants anything more than justice. They don’t want special treatment. They want to be treated like the humans that they are. We should prosecute men (or women) who commit murder. Their badge should not give them a license to kill. There should be training in place to be able to maintain control. But there should never be a “suspected, nonviolent offender” that ends up dead – never. The officer that knelt on George Floyd’s neck until he took his last breath had approximately 12 violent infractions prior to this man’s death. At what point do the higher ups put him on desk duty. At what point do they look at his performance and re-evaluate for the safety of Americans. While 1 officer has been charged, there were 4 officers involved and it sounds like to me, many more people who contributed to the degradation of this officer. They aren’t asking for this officer to be hung. They are asking for him to be treated like any other human that committed this act would be treated. PROSECUTE THEM. It isn’t enough to fire them. If George Floyd had committed a murder he would have been detained immediately. If George Floyd had been present and witnessed a murder he would have been detained immediately. Why is it asking so much to arrest those responsible for his death?
Violence is not the answer. If you listen to them (the oppressed, those protesting), if you really hear what they are saying. Violence is not their goal. It is not their intent. It is the only way they know how to get us (the oppressor, the silent majority, the privileged) to hear them. Kneeling didn’t work, writing letters didn’t work, and peaceful protesting hasn’t worked. So now if their cries continue to go unheard, they are fully prepared to BURN THIS SHIT TO THE GROUND.
A couple of weeks ago, in early May, videos of a young black man who was gunned down while jogging this February, began circulating through the media. Both the MSM and social media helped this video go viral. Three white men under the guise of “neighborhood watch” chased down and shot this young unarmed black man, and as of May 2020 they had still not been arrested or convicted. Then a young black female police officer was shot in her home in the middle of the night because the police “raided” the wrong apartment. Again, no arrests were made, no one was held accountable. And then, the final straw, video surfaced of a middle aged black men being murdered in broad daylight- on the street, in front of on-lookers. There were 4 police and one man, face down in the street while the officers kneeled on him until he took his last breath. The video was gut-wrenching. You could hear him beg “please you are killing me, I can’t breathe” and still the officers were unrelenting, stoic almost. No arrests were made, no charges were filed, for almost a week. Still today, only one officer has been charged. Since that time, the streets of major cities have been filled with protests. People protesting that “Black lives matter.” I am ashamed. I am ashamed of my country. I am ashamed of my justice system. I am ashamed of the racism of some people with the same color of skin as me.
Because of my white privilege it isn’t fair of me to speak up and say things like “all lives matter” or “I see no color” or even how I truly feel which is “this is not a black and white thing, this is a right and wrong thing.” Because of my white privilege, I will never have to be pulled over for a traffic stop and have my fear be more than a ticket. Because of my white privilege, I can choose whether to stand up for this issue or to remain seated silently. But let me tell you, now is NOT the time to be silent. All POC are watching us. They are on high alert. They need to know which side RIGHT/WRONG, BLACK/WHITE, RACIST/ANTIRACIST. Because to them, if you sit silently not acknowledging what is happening to them, you are on the opposite side.
I am married to a proud, black man. A hardworking and kind black man. A man who would stand up and die for me, for his kids, but also for his race and the injustices that they are experiencing. I hope like hell it never comes to that. But it is a fear of his, and because of that it is a fear of mine.
There are so many divisive tactics being used. There are videos being played over and over again of violence and looters. Yet the majority of protestors are peaceful. ANTIFA has been bussing in people by the droves to incite violence and to make the outcries of the oppressed be muffled and to give the police a reason to meet violence with violence. The stories that warm my heart are of the deputy that marched with the people in Flint, MI. The group of young black men who made themselves human shields for the officer that was separated from his other officers. The group of young black Americans who formed a human line in front of stores to prevent looting and further violence. The group of young white protestors, in Louisville, who formed a human chain between the young black protestors and the police preventing either side from being violent. All of the videos of the non-corrupt cops kneeling in solidarity with the peaceful protestors. All of the black leaders wanting to hug and shake hands with some of LOE to show that not all are filled with hate.
I don’t think that the black community wants anything more than justice. They don’t want special treatment. They want to be treated like the humans that they are. We should prosecute men (or women) who commit murder. Their badge should not give them a license to kill. There should be training in place to be able to maintain control. But there should never be a “suspected, nonviolent offender” that ends up dead – never. The officer that knelt on George Floyd’s neck until he took his last breath had approximately 12 violent infractions prior to this man’s death. At what point do the higher ups put him on desk duty. At what point do they look at his performance and re-evaluate for the safety of Americans. While 1 officer has been charged, there were 4 officers involved and it sounds like to me, many more people who contributed to the degradation of this officer. They aren’t asking for this officer to be hung. They are asking for him to be treated like any other human that committed this act would be treated. PROSECUTE THEM. It isn’t enough to fire them. If George Floyd had committed a murder he would have been detained immediately. If George Floyd had been present and witnessed a murder he would have been detained immediately. Why is it asking so much to arrest those responsible for his death?
Violence is not the answer. If you listen to them (the oppressed, those protesting), if you really hear what they are saying. Violence is not their goal. It is not their intent. It is the only way they know how to get us (the oppressor, the silent majority, the privileged) to hear them. Kneeling didn’t work, writing letters didn’t work, and peaceful protesting hasn’t worked. So now if their cries continue to go unheard, they are fully prepared to BURN THIS SHIT TO THE GROUND.
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