Silver Linings...

2020 has been a difficult year for most people I know. I think I should be awarded the Sad Sack trophy for the winner of the worst of it.

Early April – Schools closed. Students were switched to home-schooling. Our city – like so many others – was under quarantine recommendations. We were, fortunately, stocked with toilet paper and hand sanitizer so we missed a great deal of the frenzy.

Mid April – I was furloughed from my job, so I was home to supervise the schooling process. Meanwhile, my husband was not feeling well. We assumed this was indicative of the impending kidney failure and he was weaker by the day. Because of the pandemic, we couldn't actually go see the doctor and had to rely on video chats and a whole lot of guessing.

Early May, we continued to home-school, watching Covid take over the world while the mania took over the US. My husband was not improving so the decision was made to take him to the emergency room. He walked in to the hospital – by himself because no accompaniment was allowed – and was admitted.

Because of the new pandemic situation, there was little to no outside communication and no way to visit outside of video chats. This went on for months. Hospitals, therapy centers, and more hospitals. Over this time, he lost his ability to walk and be independent. I can only imagine how lost and alone he felt through it all.

Meanwhile, at home, kids went into the summer knowing that terrible things were happening out on the streets to people who looked like their friends at the hands of people they were supposed to trust. They were isolated and angry about it. Who could blame them?

During this time, we were met with a dangerous gas leak in our kitchen, various mechanical malfunctions with lawn mower, cars, and miscellaneous machinery. Then my brother died alone in a hospital with no one by his side. I cried Uncle and just didn't think I could take any more of the dark clouds.

Then I took a step back and remembered to look for the silver lining. ALL of the silver linings were there through it all.

• When the kids were seeing civil unrest, they were moved to stand up and speak out. I marched with them and watched them hold their signs high, lead the group in their shouts, and saw that their generation is powerful and will take control to right so many wrongs before them. As their mother, I couldn't have been more proud.

• Friends swarmed around us with offers of assistance so I knew that our family was loved and protected and would be OK. Even strangers (repairmen) who came to our door were kind and swift in their help.

• While processing the loss of my brother without my husband to hold me up, loved ones from near and far swept in to do the job. The rest of my siblings came from all over the country to hug and reminisce and console. Then, in the way that they do, my brothers jumped in to fix the broken things that needed attention. When they returned home, they continue to look after me and make sure I'm okay.

People – some known and some anonymous - have jumped in to keep us nourished, to keep us safe, and to ensure that we feel loved through all of the hurdles thrown our way. They are the reminders that we need in difficult times that Good Is The Rule. It will always prevail.

I won't be sad to see 2020 go. It's been hard on everyone. Friends have been divided politically, economically, and philosophically. But through it all, light shines through. Truth stands strong and goodness always wins.

Sure, I see the clouds. I withstand the clouds. But perhaps now, more than ever, the silver linings shine bright to guide my way. I hope the same for all of you.

Whack-A-Mole...

All of our lives, we're told not to make mountains out of mole hills. That's good advice and I generally agree but do you know what's under mole hills? Mole holes! No one ever warns you about those.

At the moment, I have a clear mountain ahead. That's where my focus lies. Unfortunately, while I'm looking ahead to the mountain, I keep stepping in mole holes.

I'm talking about the literal mole hills that seem to be appearing across my yard. I notice them, of course, but pay them little mind until I step on one. Suddenly, I'm ankle deep in a mole HOLE. Then, I'm reminded of the very real issues before me that are not quite mountains, but still serious.

Over the last few months, while looking at the mountain, I'm overwhelmed by the figurative mole hills: I'm unemployed while keeping my children safe and sane during a pandemic and separation from their dad, a snazzy new appliance that brought a scary gas leak, logistical concerns regarding my husband's care, and, finally, the passing of my beloved brother have all been laid out in front of me. It's a game of real life Whack-A-Mole.

As I say this, I'm reminded that when my kids are playing actual Whack-A-Mole in the arcade, they do much better when they work together. When more than one person has a mallet, those moles don't stand a chance.

I have an army of people who stand behind me with love and hold those big goofy hammers high, ready to whack any mole that rears his head. Knowing that so many people are watching my back *and my ankles) means that my focus can remain on the mountain so it can be properly tackled.

Obviously, my family has been clobbering those little bastards all of my life, Looking beyond them, I see the mob of friends, armed with giant hammers, ready to whack-a-mole.

Thank you army. I love you for so many reasons, but especially for that.

When You Know Better You Do Better...

“When you know better, you do better.” I honestly can't say where I heard this first – maybe my mother, my grandfather, or my grandmother, maybe a stranger on the street – but it's lived in my head most of my life and I have always tried to follow that wisdom. I don't know that I've always succeeded.

I grew up in a time that was far from politically correct. I heard words and witnessed actions that didn't sit well with my heart and that countered the lessons I'd been taught about what was kind, loving, and morally right. These things were swirling around me – violence against people I know and love just because they were unacceptably different in some way. Because their skin wasn't acceptable, the way they love wasn't acceptable, the way they pray wasn't acceptable. That kind of thinking was not acceptable to me.

I thought that was enough. To be a good person, to set an example as a loving, open-hearted person, to live by those rules for myself and to teach my children to live that way should be enough. It's not enough.

If you've been paying attention, you know the world is burning. None of this is new, though. We've had a global pandemic before. Now we have the science and wisdom to properly uncover and address it. Likewise, we now have the technology to see the much bigger human virus – violent racism – with the lens of instant video evidence that allows for people to be held accountable.

Racial injustice certainly is not new. As long as there have been human beings on this planet, there has been a need to rule and instill superiority over other human beings. This is also a global pandemic. It has happened all over the world for centuries and has been accepted by the masses through caste systems, social division, slavery, and so on. Unfortunately, America has perfected this division in its short history. This has never been acceptable to me.

My kids – like ALL kids right now – are paying attention. They see police beating black men just because they're black. They see the man in the white house shrugging his shoulders and doing nothing. They see and hear ignorant responses from the people they are supposed to trust, and they say “This is not acceptable to me!” They're right. It's not acceptable. To them, to me, to anyone with a loving heart.

I'm not a fighter. It's never been in my nature to march or shout or protest. I've always thought it was enough to vote, to step in when I can to defuse a situation, and to remove myself from people who made it clear that they were racist, sexist, homophobic, or generally ignorant. That isn't enough. It's time to shout from the rooftops and demand change. It's time to shout because when you know better, you do better.

As a parent, when my daughters said they wanted to make signs and march, I resisted. I saw the violence in the streets of Atlanta, I said no. I reminded them that we're still fighting a pandemic and need to social distance and protect ourselves. I told them that this is not our fight. I thought that was right. Then I continued to follow the footage and questioned my decision but reasoned that I was protecting them.

Then they told me about a march that was organized by students from our high school. Because of the location – at a suburban shopping center, in the middle of the day -I relented. We went to the march. We shouted. We raised our fists and I saw that we were standing on the right side of history. These kids know what's going on and they've had enough. They're demanding answers, they're demanding to be heard, and they're demanding change for their brothers and sisters, for friends they've known and loved all their lives. They're also reminding those who may disagree with them that they are all on the verge of voting age and that they intend to use that right to invoke change.

Walking away from that protest, we cut through an alley behind a restaurant to get back to the car. In that moment, my white privilege struck me square in the face. I've always known I had it but took it for granted. I told my girls that no one would ever question me for walking down a back alley because of that privilege but reminded them that their Latino dad may not have that experience. They – as Latinas themselves – were more likely to be questioned. We still have a lot of work to do.

So we put on our masks, filled our water bottles, made more signs, and did it again. We marched about three miles to honks and cheers from passersby. My 15 and 11 year old kids led many of the shouts, and my heart swelled with pride. They see the wrongs and want to right them. I've seen the wrongs all my life and was waiting for someone else to right them. Maybe that someone else has come along in the form of my children and their entire generation who has seen enough. They're mad as hell and they're not going to take it anymore.

As for me, I will continue to live and demonstrate love while I help them make signs, drive them to and walk with them in protests as long as they want me by their sides. The mom in me will remind them to drink water, wear comfortable shoes, and to stand up straight. The budding fighter in me will take my own advice while I shout and march with them. Because When You Know Better, You Do Better.

Out Of The Swamp...

On Mother's Day, my brothers and sisters embraced technology and had a video chat with our mom. From all over the country, in three different time zones, it was almost like being together. Of course, when we are all together, we catch up and tell stories. We're not one of those families who talk on the phone often so this is how we piece together details of each other's lives.

One brother was talking about being on the other side of a rough time in his life and likened it to being in a swamp. He just kept wading through it, pulling his feet out of the mud, until he got to the bank and dry land. He knew he was in the swamp and that it wasn't fun, but his focus was on the solid ground ahead. Once there, he had no interest in lamenting the fact that he'd been in the swamp and was just continuing to move forward.

This brought my mother to talk about particularly tough times when she felt like she was crawling up a steep bank. Anyone watching from the distance couldn't see it, but she knew she was making progress and kept at it with her slow and steady climb to get out of that ditch.

I think most of us can identify with tough situations. The difference, I think, is perspective. I know I have had no shortage of muddy swamps, steep ravines, and potential quicksand pits in my life. I've always made it back to solid land. I have faith that I always will. So far, so good. I'm not going to pretend that wading through the mud is fun. I'm not sure I know what I'm doing or where I'm going, but I'm sure that I can get there if my focus is clear.

I often tell friends going through tough times that they should wallow. I stand by that. Sometimes, when you're in the muck, you just need to roll around in it. Wallow in it until you can't stand it any longer. Then, crawl your way out, shower off the stench, and keep moving on dry land.

Times are rough for a lot of people right now. A lot of us are standing in the mud wondering how we got there and how we get out. Everyone's muddy bog is different and the ways out are up to each of us. I'm finding myself back in a familiar place. The mud is thick and heavy, and I think I lost my shoe, but I'm looking up to find the sun, I'm looking forward to find my path, and I'm moving towards the bank. When I get there, I know that I'll be met with the open arms of the people who have always been there for me.

They will cheer me on and pull me up and out. They'll hose me off, find my shoe, and probably give me a hot meal. That's where my focus lies. The dry land and the people I love. I don't need to stop in the swamp to pity my situation. I just need to keep moving.

Later, after a shower and a sandwich, maybe I'll have a story to tell about the frog who jumped on my head or the damned mosquitoes, but I'll never complain about having been there. I'm pretty sure that everyone who has ever been stuck in the mud has a funny tale or a lesson learned on the other side. The best part is almost always finding the way out.

 

A Whole New World...

This pandemic has changed us.

No matter what your stance on this thing may be, there's no denying that. Some are locking themselves in a bunker, hoarding bleach and toilet paper, some are staying home, venturing out only for necessities under cover of face masks and rubber gloves, some are stepping outside carefully for some sense of normalcy, while some are ignoring all precaution in defiance of all of those recommendations and thumbing their noses at all who choose the careful route. Whichever approach you choose, it's very clear that you are not alone.

We're one world. No matter how many borders or labels people wish to apply, none of it matters. Nature doesn't see walls or skin color. Religion and language does not apply here. HUMANITY is facing this. People are dying. People are separated. People are finding themselves taking inventory of their lives and evaluating and measuring importance of people and things that have previously occupied their time and energy.

I would like to believe that I already had a handle on those things. Previous challenges have tested that in my life so I feel like I may have had a head start in this but there certainly are no winners. My hope is that, on the other side of this (and there will be an end), we will ALL see the world through new lenses. We truly are all the same in this...simply human. May we step forward with healthy bodies, open hearts, and open minds and greet our brothers and sisters with warmth and respect.

OK, I get that I'm probably annoyingly pollyanna. That's fine. I'll wear that badge happily. The reality is that this situation has already forced us to do things differently. We're already adapting and shifting. Our creativity is shining. Our hearts are connecting. Ingenuity is blossoming and walls are coming down in spite of our hard-headed tendencies.

When schools across the country were forced to close their doors, dedicated educators found a way to keep engaging students. Lesson plans were quickly adapted to online learning. Video chats allow kids to directly address the teachers they know. Technology! A few weeks ago, I was complaining about the time my kids spent wrapped up in phones and apps and saying that technology was taking over their brains. Now, I'm embracing it.

Me! Embracing technology! Not only are my kids “going to school” through their computers, they're connecting in other ways, too. My 11 year old blackbelt is continuing her classes and workouts because the Master figured out how to hold classes via Zoom. My teenager can chat with her friends and stay connected. My husband has video chatted with a group of high school friends. Even I used video chat for a job interview and stuck my toe in the water with a video call with my own group of friends. Look at me! Leaping forward in to the 21^st century! Next, I think I'll try to get my far away family to try this thing out.

One solid truth in life is that change is inevitable. The way we deal with that is up to us. As with all things, there are good and bad elements. I choose to welcome the positive and shine my light on that so it can grow. I hope that others will do the same. In this darkness, we've already found light and seen beautiful things blossoming. 

Keep shining. It's a whole new world. Let's fill it with love and kindness.

Fear Itself...

Well, these are crazy times, aren't they? In my lifetime, I remember a series of events that had the human collective terrified. I guess it's a fairly natural reaction to fear the unknown but it's never been my first reaction. I remember angry lines for gas, fear over any number of newly encountered threats, blackouts, violence, and even disease. Fear just has never been in my arsenal of reactionary tools.

As the world is discovering the latest threat, I just keep hearing the voice of FDR saying “The only thing we have to fear...is fear itself!” I couldn't agree more. I don't say that to dismiss the serious issue at hand. Obviously, this latest health concern is a big deal. It's unknown and it's scary and we have a lot to learn. That's what I choose to do: learn. I do what I can to do my part, I practice good hygiene, take care in my interactions and care for those around me. That's all I am meant to do. To live, to love and to practice kindness along the way. I will not allow fear to enter my space.

I've written about this before and I say it all the time, There's not place in my world for fear. Not afraid.

I can't pretend to know what the greater Universal plan is for this latest concern but from where I sit right now, it seems that it may just be the incentive people need to stop for a minute. Look around. See what matters and let go of what doesn't. Look a stranger in the eyes as you pass them from a “safe” distance. Be thoughtful. Be kind. To borrow bumper sticker wisdom, Be The Change You Hope To See In The World.

We are resilient beings and we will get through this and be stronger on the other side of it. Hang on to the humanity and shake off the fear.

Honor Guard...

I've never been one of those people with a lot of close friends. I mean, I have a lot of acquaintances who all have a special place in my life, but I've always keep the number of those people in low single digits. Perhaps that's just a by-product of having a large family. I never had to look outside my front door for a sounding board, a buddy, a shoulder, or a voice of reason. At least that's what I've always thought.

A recent conversation with my mother made me take a closer look. She was talking about her own realization that she has friends. I mean, she has always had that small handful of people that have always been there, and that she trusted would always be there but never reached out for more. But, you know, she's a really nice, pretty interesting person and people are naturally drawn to her. She was sitting at a lunch table, with a group of people she's been meeting for lunch regularly for a couple of years and realized those people were her friends! What a revelation! They've been there for one another and helped one another, without fail. Wow.

That conversation – like so many conversations - led us to my grandmother. My mother's mother, Josephine. I never thought of my grandmother as having girlfriends. She was too serious, too busy, too Josephine to be bothered with such things! Sure, I knew that she had a regular group of ladies that she quilted with, who gathered in a church basement to cut and plan and stitch. Surely, there was friendly chatter, but I never saw it for what it was.

When my grandmother passed, I went with my aunt to that church basement to purchase quilts that she had so lovingly stitched. Imagine my surprise when I saw those quilting ladies, with tears in their eyes, and heard them talking about their dear friend Jo. Jo! They called my grandmother Jo! They were her friends!

At my grandmother's funeral, I was preoccupied with my squirmy 1 year old daughter and conversation with relatives so I missed a lot of details swirling around me. Apparently, when her casket was carried out of the church, my grandmother's friends – those quilting ladies – pulled out their needles and held them high, in an honor guard salute! I missed it, but I'm sure that Jo saw it all!

Thinking about all of this made me sit back and take inventory of my own circle. I thought I had a pretty good grasp of my world and the people in it. I'm friendly. I open my arms and my heart to a lot of people but probably have never given credit where credit is due. The people I have sorted and labeled as 'acquaintance' deserve more than that. I have friends – a lot of them!

Of course, this makes me look deeper. I know who my quilting ladies are. Our stitching doesn't happen in a church basement. It happens across many miles, for many years now. My husband has long referred to this crew as my “Imaginary Friends”. I know, without question, that they are 100% real. And, really, it's kind of his fault that I know them at all.

When he asked me to marry him, I realized I had no idea how to throw a wedding. I was never that little girl who had it all planned out. I cared that people I loved would be there and have a good time and I knew that fancy bridal magazines weren't going to tell me how to do that. So, I turned to the trusty internet to tell me what to do. I stumbled across a chat board with simple discussion among a group of women who were there for the same reason. We were all there for the same reason.

Because we weren't in the same room, there was no need to impress one another. Simple conversation about dresses and flowers and all that comes with weddings, led to regular conversations that revealed personalities and true selves. Like minds and hearts came together and a regular posse formed. We all cheered one another on, comforted and consoled when necessary and, sometimes called one another out when we were ridiculous. Basically, we formed real and true friendships.

After the weddings, we continued to talk. I flew to California to meet a couple of the ladies and we had a blast. So we planned a gathering of a larger group in New Orleans and we've continued to gather whenever and however we can since then. My Imaginary Friends have been there for me through it all...babies, funerals, challenges, victories, and the boring day-to-day. I think they'd say the same about me. For nearly 20 years, across the country, across the ocean, even, they are my posse and I know I can count on them and I am grateful to the world wide web for delivering them to me.

As time marches on, I can't help but wonder – what will our honor guard hold up? Keyboards? Computer mice? Cell phones? I don't know, but I am certain we will find a way and I know that our bond will live on through the ethers.