It's a Walk Back into a Day in the Life Thing

Dear America,

not even sure what to say right now.

good morning?

happy Monday?

top of the morning to you?

.....So would you believe I turned into a 'walk-er' for the last three weeks? 

Oh, do you happen to be one of those not entirely sure what that means? 
Am I talking in tongues, or something? 
Don't suppose you caught up with the weekend's AMC marathon, preparing for the arrival of a brand new episode of "The Walking Dead," which we all got to witness just last night?

Let me just say -- I feel like I was living the night of the living dead for days, weeks, nearly a month.  I have nearly no recollection of anything but a night that began in a life-threatening panic -- the dearest one in the family (aka the Angel In Chief) was struck with pneumonia --  and was on life support in ICU for nearly a week.

It all happened so fast, too.

He's the angel-in-chief because he was born an angel; and he's the only one in the family to be so lucky.  Some people might think being born with Down's Syndrome is a life resigned to hardship, unable to live life fully, if of the belief it's a disability.  But surely, anyone who has come across 'kissy face' would emphatically disagree.  He created a life magnificent not only for himself, but for all of us who have had the good grace to know him, to live with him, to enjoy his spirit of perpetual, childlike innocence and wonder (with a good dose of loving brutal honesty coming just when we least expect it, to be in close second).  Deep down -- he's brilliant, I tell you.

But let me not hold you in suspense even a moment longer -- the lad is still with us, thank our lucky stars.

It was then -- once he was in the clear -- I fell miserably ill with the flu.   I guess I let my guard down, for I never get sick.  And now, looking back, I realize I have never been that sick, ever.  And then -- my girl got sick! 

It was as if I was being surrounded all at once; the world was closing in on me -- threatening my very existence and life as we know it, having easily slipped into a twilight zone of sorts.  The safe harbor of the day to day humming right along, having clearly learned to take my health for granted, brings my life to a screeching halt.  I never really saw it coming.

But here I am.

I missed the opportunity to vent about women in combat -- think that's where things were left off...

Of course, we also missed having a deep discussion on the Super Bowl, or was it the Har-bowl?  Kind of funny how the NFL wanted to claim ownership of that tag line, no?  As if the league doesn't have enough to deal with pending the ongoing controversy of liability over brain injuries and personal accountability.   Even my Hall's cough drops lays it out pretty straightforward -- giving a pep talk in every drop -- saying things like "Go for it!"  "Get back in there champ!"  "Put your game face on!"  "Seize the day!"  Can we talk mixed messages?

Well, one thing is for sure -- we awoke to the world turning upside down all over again.  Can you even  believe the Pope would up and quit in the middle of Lent?  Lent!  Arrivederci my little flock.

I mean, seriously?  He is leaving his post on February 28th?

The Pope is going to throw in the towel?  Now?

Goodness gracious -- this is like The Season of all Seasons written into the ecumenical church year, for St. Pete's sake...Lent is all about renewal, reuniting in the spirit of being alive and being a child of God!  And the Pope wants to call it quits, right in the middle of it?  Has he been bitten? (That's just an inappropriate connection to the     walking       dead...father forgive me, I know not what I say).

When I was smack dab in the middle of mourning the condition of my brother, I happened to have caught Joel Osteen one Sunday morning.   As expected, we always hear what we most need to hear, and this morning was no different.  If my recollection serves me, Osteen told us the story of Moses being at a complete loss -- in spirit, as well as in provisions.  He couldn't feed his people.  Long story short, all of a sudden, the winds shifted and the skies opened up and falling at the feet of Moses were enough Quail to feed everyone, and probably for days.

Osteen's message was one of hope and renewal, but his point was simply this:  when we are open to receive...God breathes in our direction.  And the truth is --- we may very well have done nothing to deserve it.  It just happens.

This vision of God breathing in our direction carried me -- through the anguish of waiting things out while the angel-in-chief's wings were being poked and tweaked,  and even while I was down but not quite out.    This Life Force, this Breath, this abundant and everlasting Source for renewal and grace, unexpectedly gave me everything I needed.  I just had to remain open to receiving it.

I don't know how the Pope comes to a decision to stop.  All I can imagine is God has something, someone, better for the world waiting in the wings.  This Pope seems to have lost the fight inside himself.

And now, switching gears altogether -- is it just me, or is the president speaking on behalf of the State of the Union on Fat Tuesday chockfull of hidden messages and double entendre?  I worry that I may fall ill all over again with the event, but have promised myself to prepare myself for anything.  I will be popping Airborne, drinking my eight glasses of water, getting plenty of rest tonight, just to guard against any kind of crazy talk he plans on dishing out.    He's a walk-er, and a bite-er, in my mind...armed and dangerous; but given the vulnerability and susceptibility of at least half of the American people these days, all he needs to do is speak and people bite.  It's strange really -- people just accept whatever he says as the truth, as if he's the leader of the pack without questioning anything.   [For the non-walking dead, that's just another storyline]

We just had some sort of boat show run through town.  In their advertising they said something like, "come see how affordable owning  a boat can be!"  And I just had to laugh.   They could probably sell a few sail boats without any sails, too. [Can hardly wait til tomorrow night.]

Oh the winds, they are a changing...

I keep wondering why do I care?  Why is it important for me to come back and spill it day in and day out -- or three weeks in and three weeks out, as the case may be?  [Bite me]  Why even show up at all -- it's not like anybody would really miss me, right? 

Well, I would miss me.

I am going to keep coming back whenever I can, saying whatever it is I need to say, for as long as I live.   It's MY diary of a day in the life of an American girl and I promise not to take any of it for granted.  I suggest you all do the same.

At the risk of being uber cheesy --   Be awake!  Don't be a walk-er.  Accept today as maybe your last and commit to the renewal of making your life better than the day before...for the sake of all of mankind, if nothing else.

Make it a Good Day, G

 

It's a Sixty Million to One Thing

Dear America,

hello?
anyone?
boy, have no idea what just happened...

one day I plum went 'out to lunch' [badump ba] and the next thing I know, I never came back.

days, weeks, months, who knows.  but the real question is, who really cares, right?  

Whatever.
For what it's worth, we have entered the official holiday season;  as these are the days when the line in-between naughty and nice gets a wee bit blurry.

The real concern, is that nobody really cares about that either.  So while my head is spinning and foaming at the mouth, crazy girl is about to be unleashed to tell you all about it.

So ode to figgy pudding where do I begin...


Yes.  Let's start here:

Talking Turkey:  8 Easy Steps for Discussing Reproductive Health and Justice at the Holiday Table.

Yes, I hear you; you'd love it if I just made that up.  But it's real my friends, no imitation cream whip here.  This advice column is featured on Planned Parenthood, in hopes of assisting the tongue-tied collegiate returning home for the holidays and being challenged across the table...you know, over the gravy and through the dinner rolls...with thirteen rounds of politics, religion, and family in technicolor.


Setting the stage for truly meaningful family breakthroughs, it reads:

"The holidays are upon us! Going home or getting together with relatives for the holidays is always a stressful time, but if your family members are the type who regularly protest outside the local Planned Parenthood, you know that this holiday is going to be a doozy."

Besides warning against sounding off on talking points to make your point, and recommending a "big picture" approach catering to the general welfare of all women, and suggesting to everyone to "know the facts" -- it takes the higher ground, embodying the stance of true compassion while taking morality out of the picture entirely...

Because, you know...

"It’s all in how you frame it. In so many of these political disagreements, when things get heated we revert back to bumper sticker slogans instead of really talking about an issue. Instead, take a few deep breaths and try personalizing the issue, or evoking empathy.

Oftentimes it’s easier to dismiss abortion or other health care procedures as “bad” when it’s framed as a political issue. But when you’re talking about an individual woman making a personal decision, it’s harder to just write off."

Yes.  Because we can -- because we have a right -- because it's just not the right time -- because abortion isn't personal, it's business, or is it personal -- because it isn't murdering a life when we can't see it -- because there just isn't any good birth control methods these days  -- because teaching our boys and girls to wait is so Victorian -- because having the child and giving it up for adoption to a couple who cannot conceive is so assbackwards -- because abortion is just another method of birth control  -- because some countries still worship boys more than girls and choose to kill her...

How is that for "framing" things? 

I would go on, but I need to tie in something the Pope said recently.

"It is my hope that the Church's conscientious efforts to confront this reality will help the broader community to recognize the causes, true extent and devastating consequences of sexual abuse, and to respond effectively to this scourge which affects every level of society."

Sure.  It is on a totally different subject, but trust me, it works for everything.

The Pope is spot on; the sexual abuses within a trusted institution -- as the Catholic Church -- is but a microcosm of society; and until we all admit that, and deal with it head on, we will continue to bear the horrendous ill effects upon generations to come.

Having sex without thinking about consequences, without a care in the world, without love, without marriage, without care of the child being intimately and profoundly harmed, is wrong in every way.

In the article, an attorney for the side of survivors noted,  "The pope would have us believe that this crisis is about sex abuse. It isn't. It is about covering up sex abuse," Clohessy said. "And while child sex crimes happen in every institution, in no institution are they ignored or concealed as consistently as in the Catholic church."  [that is, David Clohessy, the National Director of the Survivors Network of those Abused by Priests]

Piggy-backing on Planned Parenthood's list of heartfelt advice, Clohessy makes an excellent point as he misses the 'big picture.'

Is the cover up more the issue?
Or is this more a chicken and egg thing, as in which came first? 
Who really cares which is worse?    Tell that to the survivors of Syracuse, Penn State...or the Boy Scouts....just to name a few; or no, I got a better one -- how about the institution simply called FAMILY.

It is the sexual abuse of one person upon another.  That is where is starts.  While we are all connected, in community with one another, it always falls back on the moral integrity of just one person making a really bad choice.  

"It is my hope that the Church's conscientious efforts to confront this reality will help the broader community to recognize the causes, true extent and devastating consequences of sexual abuse, and to respond effectively to this scourge which affects every level of society."  just back for seconds with the Pope

Freely aborting our babies -- the liberal argument tries to persuade us to believe that it's just about a woman's right to choose.

Pedophilia -- within institutions large and small -- chooses to center on 'the big picture' cover up and troubleshooting to protect liabilities, rather than place a laser beam focus back upon personal responsibility, finding our moral compass, and returning back to our tried and true fundamentals of making good, decent people all the way around; of course, all beginning with the very institution our country's founders elevated to it's highest regard:  the FAMILY.

It is estimated that there are over 60 million survivors of sexual abuse in America today.  Which means -- if I have to spell it out -- that there could be as many as 60 million abusers somewhere in America today.  And I got news for you, they are not all priests, or coaches, or Boy Scout leaders, okay?   But the point is, it is sixty million beginning with ONE.

The Pope chose to use the word "scourge..."  a word which this girl had to look up to get the depth and breadth of it's full meaning.  It was a good word to pick:  "a cause of widespread and dreaded affliction, as pestilence or war."  indeed.  much like the bubonic plague, every family seems afflicted, deeply, at the root -- while it carries the potential to totally wipe us out.  We can blame every institution known to man -- beginning with the Catholic Church if you want -- but it always begins with one man [generally speaking].

and now, because I can't help myself -- I am reminded of a classic movie moment when Kay responds to Michael Corleone [The Godfather...just in case you have been living under a rock]

"Oh, oh Michael. Michael, you are blind. It wasn’t a miscarriage. It was an abortion. An abortion, Michael. Just like our marriage is an abortion. Something that’s unholy and evil. I didn’t want your son, Michael. I wouldn’t bring another one of your sons into this world. It was an abortion, Michael. It was a son, a son, and I had it killed because this must all end. I know now that it’s over. I knew it then. There would be no way, Michael. No way you could ever forgive me. Not with this Sicilian thing that’s been going on for 2000 years…"

just before she gets smacked upside the head. 


good stuff.

a return to all things that make good people is in order.

just because we can do something, doesn't make it the right thing to do; just because we are free to do whatever we want, doesn't mean we should; just because we mother/father a child doesn't automatically make us a good parent -- it is earned after, during and through raising good kids and being good to them -- making all the more reason to truly PLAN for PARENTHOOD all the more essential [duh].

Sixty million survivors of sexual abuse should raise a red white and blue flag for all of us; while "it is my hope that the Church's conscientious efforts to confront this reality will help the broader community to recognize the causes, true extent and devastating consequences of sexual abuse, and to respond effectively to this scourge which affects every level of society."

 God help us all if we don't.


make it a good day, G