So....I Went to Mass Today

So..... I went to Mass today. It was only my second time being in the church since the whole COVID-19 thing took over all our lives. The first time was was back in June, when it looked for a brief shining moment, like we might get back to something that looked like normal....but we didn't. 

No, I have not become a CINO (Catholic in name only). I have continued to hold onto my faith, pray like crazy and "attend" Mass on YouTube weekly, but currently, so much is going on in the world, that I decided I needed to head to God's home and the place where I feel His presence the most.

Now our town, though small, has many churches and my church, St. Michael the Archangel, has several hundred families that are practicing Catholics who attend. Those people are usually divided up in attendance in three different Masses each Saturday evening and Sunday morning. As happens with most things, people get comfortable with a certain Mass time and unless they have a scheduling conflict, that becomes the service they frequent. At any given service, the church is two thirds to completely full, with people arriving up to 30 minutes early to say the rosary before Mass begins.

Today, I decided to go at 11:00 a.m.  I was moving rather slow and so as I pulled up, it was about 10:45. My heart literally sank as I parked my car. There were only two other cars in the parking lot. I walked in and the church was all but empty with only three of us in the pews. I knelt down and almost cried. Is this where we were at? Have we become so fearful, that we can't even allow ourselves the sanctuary of God's house?  I prayed my rosary silently.

Within in the next fifteen minutes, more people trickled in and by the start of Mass, the church was less than about a third full (which 1/3rd full is the current recommended capacity for any public building). There was great sadness inside me as I sat there realizing how much the threat of this virus was taking from us and I couldn't help but wonder after this is all over, how many will have completely lost their faith, their way and some even their lives, due to the threat, the fear and the anxiety of COVID-19?

As I sat there, a warm comfort came over me. It is the same way I always feel stepping into this church. I feel a peace and closeness with God that I truly feel no place else. Every time I walk through those doors and into that church, I feel as if I am home. I had no idea how much I had missed not being there, or how much my heart, my soul and my mind needed to be there. Online Mass services may be allowed as a replacement for attending Mass during this "pandemic" according to the dioceses, but it is an empty experience compared to actually being there and being a part of the Mass in all of its beauty and soulful healing.

Suddenly, while praying, out of nowhere, I heard my mothers voice in my head. It was from a conversation that she and I had had many times in my life. She was a child of WWII. She knew that often faith and politics don't mix and thus, faith is discouraged if not destroyed as the rules of God do not always suit the rules of man and thus man tries to destroy the undestroyable....God. Often my mom cautioned me, that there could come a time in my life that "man" might try to force me to choose between God and the secular world. I might even be coerced into denying God to save my own life or that of those I love. She warned me that I must always choose God, for with God all things are possible and if death is the ultimate outcome (and lets face it, we are all going to die one way or another), then those that die choosing God have eternal life. It just all comes down to faith.

So then as I sat in the quiet with my rosary in my hand, it all began to make sense. Mom was not wrong. No, it wasn't some Hitlerish dictator standing over me demanding my allegiance to him and a subsequent denial of God and my faith, (as I am sure she often imagined), but it was still an attempt to force me to deny....or disregard my faith nonetheless.

Throughout the centuries, when things in the world became bad and nearly catastrophic, people of faith always found their way to church...the house of God. Here they knew that God was bigger than anything this secular world could dish out and they were protected by their faith and His grace. It was a faith that got people through famines, wars, deaths and even destruction of all that was around them. Faith in God and God's grace are a mighty armor and it can protect those that believe, from the worst fear to the gravest reality. If you have complete faith in God, then this world and the worst it has to offer are simply no match for the power of the Almighty. So by hiding in fear and not physically attending Mass, in a very real way, I was denying God and allowing fear to override my faith. In essence, I have been doing exactly what my mother warned me against. She was a very smart woman who knew what was coming, she just never could have imagine what form it would take.

The reality of today truly got me to thinking. While some have grabbed their faith and clung to it through all of this, many have found themselves worshiping at the feet of fear and with churches being deemed non-essential, people are losing their foundation in their faith and being drawn into chaos and the worst of secularism in our world. We are at one of the lowest points our country has seen in modern times with unprecedented issues and actions, from deception, to fear, to rioting, looting and murder in the streets. We are drowning in it all emotionally and many are succumbing to the devastation and negativity and losing emotional battles within themselves resulting in abuse, addiction and even death. The slippery slope that our churches closing put many on, is quickly turning into a landslide that people are losing their footing on and they are forgetting that all they need to do is reach up, grab hold and pray.

While I can't speak for others, their feelings or their faith, I can say that today brought me back to a place that I needed to be. I had allowed my sanctuary to be deemed non-essential, when in reality, it was the most essential part of my life. It is my place of peace, where in just moments I realized that no one but God is in control and in all of the chaos, He is allowing us to learn what is really important in this world. Perhaps we have to know fear, hate, unrest and abject sorrow before we are ready to appreciate our blessings, know that fear cannot walk side by side with faith, that hate never solved anything and that love is a powerful gift. Maybe God is allowing us to bleed a little before we can heal completely. I really don't know God's plan, but I do know that all I must do is ask and He is there. He holds me securely in His grace and never more so than when I am in His house.

None of us knows God's plan for us, nor the hour and design of our death. Those things, only God knows and I have no control over any of it. What I can control though, is how I choose to live my life going forward, and living in fear and robbing myself of my faith and that which is spiritually essential to me, is not living at all.  I need to refocus on the fact that God is bigger than any virus, any riot, any political party and anyone or anything in His creation.

Yes....a lot of lessons were learned today as I pulled myself back to a peaceful center. What a beautiful day to renew my faith and re-evaluate "essential."

So....I went to Mass today.

*As always, this is my blog and these are my thoughts, feelings and opinions. I in no way expect anyone to think, feel or express themselves as I do... just because I do. I do however, expect you to respect my right to have them just as I respect yours.

Black Lives Matter and Defunding the Police Part Two

If you happened to have read my blog post from the other day, then you read part one on this two part blog piece. Part One dealt with Black Lives Matter, a few facts and my thoughts and opinions on the topic. Today, I am going to talk about Defunding the Police and again my thoughts, opinions and a few facts thrown in. It is a huge topic right now and one that affects not just black lives, but the lives of all of us in every state, city, town and community across the country.

Again, these are my thoughts and opinions and you are under no obligation to agree. 

So....Defunding the Police (DTP). It is the cry of the Black Lives Matter (BLM) movement. Now in my previous post, Black Lives Matter and Defunding the Police Part One, I was clear on how I felt about the movement and it's hypocrisy and the reasons why. I feel no less strongly about the Defunding of the Police.

To begin with, I said something about defunding the police the other day on facebook, and a friend posted to me, this snipit from an article she found (I do not know the source) with the reasoning behind (DTP). Here it is:

Defunding the police is shorthand for a divest and invest model: divesting money from local and state police budgets and reinvesting it into communities, mental health services, and social service programs.
The idea is that American communities have come to rely on their more than 18,000 police agencies to do much more than police. They’re fighting terrorism abroad, performing homeless services, working with children in schools, responding to calls for mental health crises, performing social work and welfare checks, mediating domestic disputes, and responding to drug overdoses. Often, they’re not trained to perform these tasks. 
Those who call for police defunding say they would rather have some duties handled by nonviolent specialists trained in social work, education, or drug counseling.
As the police take on more work, their budgets have also grown substantially. The U.S. spends an estimated $100 billion on their police forces annually, with another $80 billion spent on incarceration. Policing typically accounts for one-third to 60% of American cities’ annual budgets. 
The New York Police Department, for example, has a $6 billion budget—that’s more than spending on homeless services, housing development and upkeep, youth and community services, health and hospitals, and parks and recreation combined.


Alright....it sounds reasonable to a point....on paper. Of course when you figure into that the NYPD also has 36,000 officers and 19,000 civilian employees in one of the highest crime rated cities in the country, not too mention a very high cost of living rate, and that those dollars cover much more than just salaries....they also cover equipment, pensions and classes just to name a few, it all makes a little more sense.

It doesn't matter where in the country you are at though, you have to also realize that you are talking about a group of men and women who every day put their lives on the line to protect and serve our communities with no guarantee that they will make it through a shift alive. The average salary for a cop across the country according to Indeed is $54,174. Broken down that is $4,514 per month, $1,128 per week and $28 per hour. Most cops make much less than that and a lot of less hazardous jobs pay a lot more. So yeah....$28/hr hardly seems like much considering what is ask of them in a day, and yet BLM (if we go by the above definition of defunding) wants to cut their salaries even further. Hmmmmm.

So, just what is a police officers job description? Each department, throughout the country has their own official description but all are pretty much the same, so I just pulled the description from Wikipedia. It seems to cover what we would expect, but let's delve a little deeper.

Police are first responders. In any situation, they are usually first on the scene to secure what could be a volatile situation. Over the years they have been the first ones on scenes like Jonesboro, Columbine, the Oklahoma City Bombing, 9/ll and the list of scenes go on and on. In many cases, even if it is a fire or emergency situation, fire fighters and EMS cannot and will not go into a situation unless police have first come in and secured it. It is for the safety of the firefighters and the EMS crews as well as all civilians involved.

Police also have training in but not limited to: emergency medical treatment, psychology, tactical combat training, search and rescue, domestic violence and abuse, community relations, crime scene investigations, hostage negotiations, crisis management and forensics. Their jobs can entail everything from stopping someone from killing themselves, to handling terrorists threats. They see the best in their communities and they see the very worst and in return, they are screamed at, spit on, called names and treated as though they are the enemy. And probably the most significant part of the job is not only that they have to be prepared to die each and every day, but they also have to be prepared to kill to protect others. Can you even imagine such a job? Yeah, that $28/hour sure doesn't look like that much when the realities of their jobs are focused on.

I have always supported law enforcement. Truthfully, I haven't always liked all the cops I have dealt with, but I have always respected the job they do and how hard I know it is. If I had their jobs and had to deal with what they do, I might not be real likable at times either. Never though, have I needed a cop that they didn't do their job to the fullest and give those involved the help they needed. I guess that is why the other night was concerning to me. We had a group of BLM protesters protesting in Wichita. It was a 3 or 4 night event. The first night they were all but rained out. The second night though, they were a bit more prepared for the weather. It was at this time that I realized that even in Wichita, the greatest number of protesters were not black, but white. Again....kids who have no idea about anyone's struggle, let alone a black persons, and they were not yelling "defund the police," they were yelling the new mantra, "abolish the police!" There is quite a difference in the two. They were also yelling...."Whose streets? Our streets!" Hmmmm. Of the 60-100 protesters, I would bet that maybe 20% paid taxes. Honey...those streets are MY streets. Not yours.

The moment that they yelled "abolish the police," they need to realize that this became something much more serious than they even know. This is no longer a BLM issue. This is now an issue that affects everyone of all colors, as those police protect and serve us all. I refuse to give that up to any group because quite frankly.....my life is just as important as yours. My life matters too!

So.....let's just play devils advocate for a moment. Let's just say we decided right here in Wichita to abolish the police. What might that look like? Well, first of all, we have seen that Millenials and Gen Zers have very little impulse control, nor do they have any understanding of true struggle, not to mention most seem pretty entitled, so no police means they will come in and take what they want, destroy what they want and demand more, with no one telling them what to do. Sounds like utopia...right?

Forget that you have worked hard all your life for something. Without police, there is no one to uphold the law and therefore no law means either you buy a gun and protect yourself and your property or you allow your property to be taken from you. You add into the fact that these particular age groups have absolutely no idea what a "peaceful protest" is, and they tend to involve themselves in a lot of drug activity (heroin, meth, pills, etc) and you are not just dealing with entitlement but also with the mental issues that go along with drug abuse, so there's that to contend with too. It's just getting better...right?

By abolishing the police, then you also lose your front line first responders. You know the ones who keep your boyfriend from beating you to death, or the ones that pull your child from the pool and resuscitate them back to life or the ones that make sure it is safe for EMS and fire fighters to do their jobs to help you. And when people inevitably start shooting each other in the streets because they are sick of no one doing anything....and trust me they will.....whose going to come when your family member or friend is lying in that street bleeding? Whose going to catch your rapist? Whose going to help you find your missing child? Oh right. No one! Because the police were abolished. So....how's that working out for everybody?

Now let's go back to defunding. The fact is that most police departments are underfunded as it is. They are expected to do everything from psycho-analyzing someone to make sure they are not a danger to themselves or someone else, to rushing in to stop a shoot out. Sometimes the training is lacking because the dollars aren't there and yet, you want to defund the pay and resources they do have....so mental health professionals can rush in and do what? Do you think a mental health professional is going to run in and save a family when they have been broken into and someone is holding a gun on them? Is a mental health professional going to go into a crime scene and find a killer? Is a mental health professional going to secure a situation so that EMS can do their jobs? Of course not. It makes no sense and yet this is part of the defunding plan? 

So what does make sense? Perhaps those who have climbed their way up the ladder to six figure or more paychecks within the police departments, do their jobs. Perhaps they take pay cuts themselves so that those serving on the streets can get all the proper training and pay they need and deserve. Perhaps it makes more sense to have universal police training that covers race relations and mental health services for the police to use both on the job and personally. It also makes sense for police to work in communities with mental health professionals to help each other in crisis situations. It makes sense for awareness to be brought about that there are bad cops and to weed out and prosecute those who abuse their jobs and their badges, sending a message to other officers and the communities they serve that abuses of power will not be allowed.

I am in no way saying that there are not issues within police departments. But for all the issues, the good they do on a whole is far greater than the bad. It makes far more sense to fix what is broken than to scrap it all and leave our cities unprotected and open to all forms of criminal activity.

To abolish the police or even defund a little bit will end up being a travesty to everyone. More lives will be lost and I have no doubt, those yelling the loudest for this to happen, will also be the ones who end up crying the loudest if it does. Reallocating dollars into more training and community relations is a far better idea, as well as finding solutions to unite communities with their police forces.

Let's get down to brass tacks though. Much of this goes back to taking responsibility for our actions. How many times have we been pulled over by an officer doing his job, when we were speeding and as we drive away, blaming him? Forget that we were the ones going 45 mph in a clearly marked 30 mph zone, but somehow it is the cops fault for seeing us,  stopping us and giving us a ticket. And of course, our bad attitude has nothing to do with any attitude he might show us....right?  Let's face it, we've all watched enough COPS to know that when someone black or white commits a crime, they are seldom anxious to admit the wrong doing or deal with the consequences of the actions. They will lie, fight and wrongfully accuse....even if it is all caught on camera. It's not all about bad cops. A good deal of it is about people wanting to get away with bad things and the police are in their way. With police upholding the law, there is consequences and we live in a world where no one wants those consequences.

So....let's deal in facts. George Floyd was a criminal. He should have been arrested and he should have had his day in court. He however, should not have died the way he did and the officers involved should be held accountable for their own criminal actions and be prosecuted to the fullest extent of the law. It's that simple. That does not however mean that because Floyd died at the hands of bad cops, that all cops are bad. The reality is that good cops far outweigh bad cops in every precinct around the country. An even greater reality is that at some point in our lives, the chances are pretty great that we will need a cop and I just pray that when that time comes....they are able to be there when we call.

These are MY streets and I support law enforcement. How about you?

BLM and Defunding the Police Part One

There is so much going on in the world today. Just about anything from the upcoming election to COVID-19 is a good topic to put under a microscope and really look at and talk about, but today, I want to talk about Black Lives Matter (BLM), more so about the literal and not the group and about Defunding the Police. This blog post will be part one and focus on Black Lives Matter.

Please remember, these are my thoughts and opinions and you are in no way obliged to agree. 

Let's start with the term black lives matter. They do you know. They always have, but in our current world, BLM has taken on a new militant meaning and to mention that any other lives might also matter is condemned as hate speech. So for the purpose of getting a few of my opinions and thoughts out there, I am only going to discuss the literal term black lives matter along with a few facts.

The term BLM, as I stated above, has taken on a militant stance against the police and law enforcement. Much has to do with racial profiling and the deaths of black individuals by police. It is not however, just about black people dying or racism in police departments. Black lives matter, because they are human lives. They are men, women and children of all ages and it is not just about their mortality, but also about the quality of their lives, the opportunities they have, their livelihoods and the character of black African Americans.

Have blacks had an easy time in American history? No. It's a simple answer. They were taken from their homes and brought to the United States for one purpose....to be slaves. They were used as field labor, house maids and sex slaves. Many were treated with less dignity than a farm animal and their lives were viewed as expendable because they were seen as property and not as humans. Did black lives matter back then? To much of the North they did, but even back then, not all blacks were treated equally.

In the mid 1800's there were approximately 180 slave owners who themselves were black. Most if not all had also been slaves but had been freed and became more prosperous than those who were still owned. The sad part is that of those 180ish black slave owners, there were black men like William Ellison, a former slave who had prospered and soon realized to continue in prosperity, he needed slaves to help him. Unfortunately, coming from a slave background himself, did not make him a kind and benevolent slave owner. While he was likely more compassionate than his white counterparts, he still made sure his slaves knew he was the master and he kept his distance from those of black skin who worked for him. Did black lives matter to him? Good question.

As time went on, even post Civil War race relations remained tense, especially in the South, and blacks and whites were segregated in every way possible. It pretty much stayed this way until the late 1950's and into the 1960's when the Civil Rights Movement became political, humanistic and spiritual for both blacks and many whites who were realizing that skin color meant nothing. It was the character of a human being that mattered.

The Civil Rights marches of the 1960's did have their moments of anger and frustration, but they were a proud time for black Americans. Men and women dressed in suits and dresses, held their heads high and walked the streets proclaiming that they would no longer sit at the back of the bus, have their children going to segregated schools or be treated like second class citizens because they were black. There were eloquent, history making speeches made by Dr. Martin Luther King, Medgar Evers and other prominent black figures of the day and people were listening. Change was coming and the blacks of the 1960's were being heard, not because they were rioting and destroying, but because they were the change they wanted to see. Was it easy for them? No and many lost their lives for the cause, but at the end of the day, they fought for peace, unity and equality...and they were beginning to win the fight.

Race relations have always had their highs and lows and quite frankly, there are people of all colors that hold prejudice in their heart regardless of how far the rest of the world comes. There are fringe instigators of all colors that will continue to keep race an issue and a tool of division because that is who they are. But they are a minority of any group, not the majority. Unfortunately, sometimes the minority of a group puff themselves up so big and become so loud, that we forget just how small they really are and give them undo credit for being much bigger.

In 2008, the first black president was elected into office.....President Barrack Obama. Not only was he black, but he was also mixed race and part white. On paper, he should have been the greatest unifier our country ever had as he had some understanding what it was like to be on both sides of the color spectrum. In 2008, racial tensions were not that high, but by the time he left office, they had taken new heights. Instead of uniting we were a nation divided by color in a way that had not been seen since the 1960's. It was also during his presidency that the group BLM was founded. It became a time when there was a huge uprising of rioting, killing and destroying by blacks in black communities. A match had been struck and rather than be a peacemaker, the President whether it was intentional or otherwise, fanned the flames of rage and the country exploded.

Now here we are in 2020. We are literally sitting on a powder keg that if it goes off, could put us into the throws of another civil war. How? Why? I have my suspicions, but lets deal in facts. George Floyd.

George Floyd was a black man with a history of drug abuse, theft and holding a pregnant woman at gunpoint. He was not a saint, but he was a man and he died a cruel and unnecessary death at the hands of police in front of many many witnesses. It was the spark that set off a "war" that will likely make future historians look back on us and shake their heads.

In the wake of George Floyds death, he suddenly became the martyr for the BLM movement. He was not squeaky clean and he had been on the wrong side of the law, but within days, his criminal history didn't matter, only his death did. Since then, cities have been destroyed, communities have been destroyed, historical monuments have been destroyed and the lives of police have been put in danger in a way never before seen. Gone are the days of class, pride and eloquence in protesting and now we are in full on blood in the streets rioting. Why? Because BLM! Now this is where I say that yes, I support the lives of blacks but I do not support the movement/organization of BLM because I find it hypocritical.

I have been told by those that are black and those that support BLM that one of their main goals is to push back on police. They want police held accountable for all the black lives they have taken in the past and they demanded justice against the police officers who were involved with Floyds death, but when the officers were arrested, that was not justice enough. They shout "black lives matter" everywhere they go and they want the focus on black lives....so let's put it there and ask some questions.

The number of blacks killed by police in the United states is not as high as the number of whites. But let's take everyone but blacks out of the equation. Is there racial bias in the police force? I am sure there are bad and racist cops that have no business being cops, but those are the few. So in 2019, 235 black people were killed by cops. How many of those black people were criminals? How many of the cops involved were black themselves? How many of the "victims" fired on cops first? How many of them had killed others or would have killed again? Yes, those black lives mattered but rather than blame 235 deaths on police, I can't help but wonder how many of those 235 brought their deaths on by their own actions? We don't have white laws and black laws. We have laws and we have a majority of cops who uphold those laws to protect people of all colors. When the choice is made to break those laws, the consequences are not the law breakers to choose.

Then I have to ask, if black lives matter, then why is the focus only on black deaths caused by police?  According to the Chicago Tribune, in 2020 alone, so far 432 people have died in just Chicago. Of that number, 308 have been black and have ranged in age from less than a year old to elderly. The most black fatalities take place on the South and West sides of the city which are predominantly black and were black on black killings. They are mostly gang and drug related, and this is just one city this year. City's like St. Louis, Atlanta, Los Angela's and New York have their own similar statistics. So....if black lives truly matter to the BLM movement, then why aren't they focused on these numbers? Why aren't they out there walking through the streets of their own neighborhoods and demanding better from others in their communities, because I promise you, for every black life lost, they were someones child, parent, aunt, uncle, grand child, spouse or friend and their lives mattered immensely to those who loved them.

Some more questions. If black lives matter to the movement, then why did the movement allow their protesters to go into black communities and riot, destroying businesses and homes and stealing from the very communities that they live in? Do only those dead by cop, lives matter? What about the very much alive black lives, who no longer have a place to live, shop or work, because the BLM movement destroyed it all? Does the black mother with three kids not matter, now that her home is burned out? Does the black grocer who has spent his life building his business to watch it destroyed and looted not matter? So which black lives matter? Shouldn't all black lives matter and not just the ones that you can sensationalize with an agenda?

And finally, if black lives matter, why are so many of the protesters white? Why are white kids who have no idea what it is like to struggle as a black person, starting to be the face of your movement? Why are you allowing white ANTIFA members who have no loyalty to the black community and who have their own agenda which has nothing to do with black lives, to instigate, deflect and take the focus away from racism and put it on furthering division and hate in our country?

In truth, black lives do matter to me. I want our society corrected so that all humans regardless of color are treated equally and with respect. The fact is we can't change the past, but we can make sure it doesn't repeat itself going forward, but it is not just white people that need to fix this.I don't want to think of a mother or grandmother, sister, brother, child or spouse of any color suffering over the loss of someone they loved due to senseless inter-community killings. Much work needs to be done on all fronts but facts cannot be ignored. Either ALL black lives matter or they don't and if you want true change.....you have to take responsibility instead of constantly placing blame and hiding behind a hypocritical movement, so that you can be the change you want to see.

So these are my thoughts, my opinions and some facts thrown in. There is much wrong in this world and nothing will ever change unless we all work towards that change. Change doesn't start with hate and nothing good ever came from hate. To change, we must listen, hear and take responsibility and then and only then will the world become a better place.

Part Two on BLM and Defuding the Police.....will be coming soon. 

Maskers vs. Anti-Maskers

Happy "almost" 4th of July!!!!

Tomorrow we will be celebrating Independence Day. Well....in theory anyway. Most of us are feeling anything but "independent" and after what has been going on in our government and with the citizens of our country, many also find little to be proud of. Basically we have all lost our damn minds and if proof is needed, just look at social media.

So today, I am going to talk......masks...or what I like to call maskers vs. anti-maskers.  

In my state, our governor "mandated" that as of midnight last night, masks were going to be mandatory in public places. It was then pointed out that the governor did not really hold the power to "force" this decision, so it turned into she "highly suggested" that masks be worn in public places. In essence, she really can't "force" masks to be worn, but she did empower businesses to reject services to customers who do not wear masks. It also became a situation where since there was a great deal of blow back on the mask "suggestion" that the counties started deciding whether they would try to enforce the mandate or not. Our county decided that they would stick with "suggest" since the police had already made a statement that they would not be enforcing, arresting or even acknowledge calls that pertained to mask wearing. Can you blame them? We are in the middle of summer, the highest crime rate time anyway, and because of this mandate they are now going to be inundated with Karen Calls about people not wearing masks.

So where do I stand on the subject? Usually about 6 feet (or further if possible) away from people whether they are wearing a mask or not. I am not a fan of people right now....mask or no mask. I also do a lot of heavy sighing and eye rolling when I see the ridiculousness of what I see on the news and in social media with the maskers vs the anti-maskers.

I do kind of see this from both sides, as fear has been a powerful media tool in the pushing of masks and apparently fear leads a lot of peoples lives. Who knew?  On the other hand, I completely understand the desire to not want to have your face covered when it is 100 degrees outside. Especially when reputable sources on both sides, doctors, scientists and even the CDC have said one thing and then changed it time and time again in the last few months. What we know about this virus is.......we apparently don't know! What I know about this virus is.....I am not going to stop living my life nor am I going to live my life in fear. Like me or hate me.....I don't really care. I guess I am just a rebel like that.

So today I went to Walmart. I hate going to Walmart, especially the day before a holiday weekend. The stars aligned just so though, and today was the day I got to go. Now, I have not been wearing a mask much, but I do carry one with me, as I am not going to disrespect a business if they want me to wear one on their premises. If I don't want to wear a mask, then I don't need to do business there, but if I need their services, then I have enough respect to abide by their wishes.

I truly expected today, with the "suggestion" in place, that I would not be allowed in Walmart without a mask. I was amazed though at the hoards of people shopping along with no masks. Yes, there were slightly more people wearing masks than usual, but there were just as many if not more, without. Because I wanted to get in and get out without incident and because there were soooooo many people in the store, I did actually wear my mask going in. However, after about 10 minutes with the heat, humidity and so many people, I had to take my mask off. My glasses kept fogging up, I was getting a horrible headache and my mask was literally getting wet from the humidity....in the store. I gave up.

I did my shopping without incident and as I was leaving I heard an interesting conversation. The lady who stands at the exit was of course, wearing a mask and an older gentleman and his wife who were also wearing masks, walked up to her and thanked her for wearing the mask. She told them, your welcome but that it was mandatory for all employees to wear one. Then he asked why they were allowing customers to walk around without masks on. She told him that it is Walmart's policy, that they cannot refuse service to anyone whether they are wearing a mask or not and they cannot ask someone to put a mask on. Interesting. So that explained a lot. There are obviously some businesses worried about the economics of this whole virus thing.

Now don't get me wrong. I am not going to get into a knock down drag out over a stupid mask.If it is a business requirement I will do it without comment. If however, I have a choice, you are going to see my naked face every time. Sound funny? Maybe, but that is just me.

Is the virus real? Yes of course it is. There are though, I believe, many "facts" about this virus that are not real. I refuse to argue about it though. Why? Because I could argue with a wall and get further than I can with a masker. When someone acts based in fear, there is no getting through that barrier of fear and resistance and I am not even going to waste my time trying. Life is just too short. I am however, going to go on with my life as simply as possible. I will carry a mask with me and I will wear one where it is required to do business. Every place else, I will social distance, not because I am told to, but because I have always done that.

Bottom line, if you choose to wear a mask, I have no problem with that and you will get no argument from me on your choice...because frankly....it is none of my damn business how you choose to live your life. I also will not argue with you on my choice to wear or not to wear one, because frankly....it is my choice and none of your damn business how I choose to live my life.

I can think of no better way of ending this than with this video of the Star Spangled Banner. Perhaps you will learn something you didn't know.

Grief: You Are Going to Feel How You Feel Until You Don't Feel that Way Anymore

As I write this, in this moment, it has been 19 years, two hours and 55 minutes since the last time I saw you, hugged you, kissed you and said "I love you," to you. For those doing the math, that is 228 months, approximately 912 weeks, somewhere around 6,939 days and right around 166,552 hours. Broken down even further....that is real close to 9,993,201 minutes since last I was walking out the door, not knowing that in an instant, my world was going to change forever.

I break this down in such a way, because over time, sometimes the months and weeks have passed quickly with the business of life taking over and sometimes, the loss has been so painful and so excruciating that it feels like life has stopped and it has been all I can do to get thru the next minute. I guess this is simply the nature of grief.

On July 2, 2001, at about 7:30 in the morning, I kissed my husband, told him I loved him and walked out the door to take my mom to a doctors appointment. My mind was on the news of her health that we might hear that day and little else. Other than that, it was a normal summer day and not for a second did I think it would be anything else, but by 1:00 that afternoon, my life would be shattered, my heart would be irreparably broken and nothing from that moment on, would ever be the same in my life again, because at 1:00 p.m. was the time I came home to find that my husband had suddenly and unexpectedly dropped dead of a brain aneurysm.

I had lost people before Tim, and I have lost people since, but with the exceptions of my mother a year after, and my baby daughter many years earlier, no death has ever taken from me or affected me like his. It was losing Tim that taught me about falling completely apart and then eventually finding my way back to life. It taught me about abject loss and then slowly seeing the blessings that surround every tragedy in life. Most of all, it taught me about the beauty of grief and the strength and purpose that can come when you begin to move on with gratitude.

Skipping ahead to this year (2020), there has been a great amount of loss in my world. Some have been by extension of those I care about, and some have hit me right in the heart, leaving another piece  of my heart, wounded and bleeding. Those wounds never completely go away. The best we can hope for is that they scar, leaving us a permanent reminder of who we loved and what we lost. Maybe it is because of all that has been lost this year that I felt the need to write this and since I woke up very early today with Tim on my mind, I write this in his honor.

If you make it out of childhood, there is an overwhelming probability that at some point you will lose someone you love and depending on just how long you live in this world, the chances are even better that you will lose several in your lifetime. The fact is, no matter how many times we lose those we love, the grieving process will happen and it will always be different. Grief is not a one size fits all occurrence and if anyone tells you differently, then they likely haven't dealt with a lot of loss.

Yes, there are stages of grief that we all tend to go through, but we all don't go through them the same way and we don't all go through all the stages. When I lost Tim, I went from hysterical to complete calm in a matter of minutes. The "knowledge" of his death in those first few minutes, knocked the wind completely out of me. I felt as if I was living in a nightmare and I was begging to wake up. I remember screaming and then there was the realization that I was a mom and I had young children that were more lost than I was. I then became calm, in an almost auto-pilot kind of way, and I began to organize and give direction as if I had to clean up and control the situation.

In those first few hours, life went by quickly in a slow-motion kind of way. There were things to do, questions to answer and a never ending line of people coming in and out helplessly wanting to help. I remember in the moment I was so grateful they were there, but at the same time I couldn't focus or even comprehend reality, so I was just blank inside. Again....auto-pilot.

The days that followed were non-stop. People continued in and out, making arrangements that I never planned to make and making decisions that I had no idea how to make. All of this was going on, along with the fact that I still had kids. I had to be a mom and help these children who looked to me for guidance, to get through something that I didn't have a clue about getting through. All I wanted to do was crawl in bed and not move, not think and not feel, but instead.....I had no choice but to keep moving and keep answering questions and making decisions.

It was nearly a week of everything but the kitchen sink being thrown at me. There were people in and out and in a funny sort of way, it felt as if a new normal had set in. Then there was the funeral. There were faces, kindness, me trying hard to look as if I was still me, when somewhere inside I knew that the me that left the house on July 2nd was gone forever as surely as if I had taken my last breath the moment he did.

Then it was over. Tim was buried. All who had come to say good-bye, left. They all went back to their lives and I was left alone, raising kids and having to figure out what each minute going forward was suppose to look like. I was angry for the first time. No I was not angry at Tim, because I always knew that Tim would have never left if that had been his choice. I was also not angry at God. I was raised to understand that none of us is guaranteed in this world and none of us leaves this world until the moment that we have accomplished everything we were meant to accomplish. No....my anger was at the world. I was so mad that everyone got to go home and resume their regular lives. How could this be? How could everyone else just go back to business as usual, when my life had virtually stopped?

I don't know for how long the anger lasted, but I do know that it took a toll on who I was as a person and my relationships with those around me. Some days I would force myself to get up and be a semi-functioning human being for the sake of my kids and some days I just barely functioned. It was a mixture of grief, guilt and anger. I could barely talk to people, even those closest to me, because I was seething with anger at them. I did not want to hear and see how they were going to work, enjoying their summer and doing the many mundane, everyday things that make up life, while I was caught up in a weird place where I had to exist but couldn't move from the pain that held me in place. It got to the point where I didn't answer the phone or the doorbell and the only time I left the house was out of necessity. Looking back now, I can't tell you whether this period in time lasted weeks, months or years, but even today, if I think about it, I can come back to a touch of that dark emptiness that filled me during that time. It was suffocating and I remember wondering if I would always feel that way and if I would survive. All these years later....I have those answers. No....I would not always feel that way and yes....I would survive.

At some point, the wound in my heart began to heal a bit and start to scar. As harsh as the old saying, "Life goes on" is, it is true. Those left behind after a loss, have no choice but to fall back into life and eventually start living again. No, that life didn't look much like the life I had previously, but slowly not only was my heart starting to heal a bit, but so was my mind. The anger slowly subsided and I began to be very grateful for those people who even in my darkest moments when I refused to let them in, stood by me. I was blessed to have some people in my life that loved me enough to give me time and not turn their backs on me. I also began to see the positive in the negative. Yes, I had lost Tim, but the blessing was that I had ever had him at all. I began to see that Tim and I had put a lot of love and happiness in our short years together. We had more in our few years than some people have in decades of marriage. He had given me kids who were constant reminders of his heart and soul and each time I looked at them, I saw him. In time I came to realize that Tim had been a gift and our time together had been something special that God reserved for only the two of us. Tim had given me love, a life, children, joy, laughter and strength. In a very real way, while he was alive, Tim gave me what I needed to survive when he died.

After Tim died, I learned that as much as he changed my world and my life with his presence, he also changed so many others. There was a period of time, when out of the blue, I suddenly had people coming to me and telling me what he had done for them at work or in a passing moment in their lives. I learned of people he had encouraged, gone to bat for or helped in some way. I heard stories of how his kindness, strength and humor had changed peoples lives and it validated what I already knew. Tim had not left this world without doing exactly what he was put here to do. I was so grateful in this knowledge.

Once the healing seemed to be fully underway, a new normal had set in. I could go several hours without feeling alone or missing his voice, but grief is a strange thing and it doesn't let go easily. I remember driving one day and a song came on the radio. It was "The Dance," a song that had been a favorite of Tim's and had been played at his burial, and that song tore through me like a grenade. It literally took my breath away and made me have to pull off the road. Tears flooded me and I cried like I hadn't cried since the day he died. I was angry and frustrated that after all this time, I could still be brought to my knees by of all things....a song. Once the tears subsided though, I actually felt better and the healing continued on. This however, was not the last time over the years that I would be brought down out of the blue and I am sure, even at this stage of the game, it can still happen under the right and unexpected circumstances.

I think of all the things that I have gone through in my grieving process, the most startling, sad, beautiful and reassuring gift though, has been my dreams. Over the years, there have been several and when I wake up, I am left feeling beautifully sad. In those dreams, Tim always comes to me and lets me know that he is always with me. His visits to my dreams always come at a time when I am struggling and his presence is comfort and the dream stays with me long after I am awake. I still am blessed to have these from time to time and I have come to see them as a spiritual extension of his life.

Today, all these years, months, weeks, days and minutes later, the grieving process still continues on, but it is not the devastation of those early days. Today, it is a smile when I see a picture or a tear when a memory hits me full on. It is a subtle ache instead of a searing pain and it is an understanding that while the loss was painful, if given the chance, I would do it all again because he was my person. He was my love and he gave me so much and that pain was just a reminder of how much I loved and how lucky I was to have him in my life.

So if I were ever to give someone any advice on grief, I would simply say, don't let anyone tell you how you are "supposed" to do it. Grief and grieving are personal and as I said earlier, not all grief is created equally. It is a process in which there are no real rules and no shortcuts. As Tim used to say, "You are going to feel how you feel, until you don't feel that way anymore." Today I feel grateful. I was blessed that God gave me Tim and I am grateful that I see his light continue on in our kids.

Tim Elam

Sept. 20, 1961 to July 2, 2001

It's 4:30 a.m. Welcome to My Brain

So, it's 4:30 a.m.ish and apparently my sleep is done for the night. My head is full of thoughts and it has been anything but a restful night. We have had storms which resulted in a 7 year old in my bed, closely followed by a dog throwing up on my bed. Attempting to go back to sleep now would be futile, so I decided to unburden my brain.

Please bare with me, because I kind of know what I want to say, but I have no idea how it is going to jump from my brain, to my fingertips to this blog. I guess we all will be surprised.

To start with, I got called "passive aggressive" yesterday. Now trust me, I have been called worse by better, and names usually just slide off my back, but for some reason, this stuck with me to the point that I woke up thinking about it as I cleaned up dog puke. Usually, if something sticks with me this long, I am struggling with the fact that either there is a grain of truth to the accusation or it is so far out in left field that my brain is trying to process how someone could even think that about me, let alone say it.

It had to do with a post that I made yesterday. The fact is, even as I write this, I am not sure how the post ended up on my facebook page as I don't remember seeing it, until someone messaged me about it. By the time I went and looked at it, it had quite a few comments and in my comment back, I stated that I didn't even know that I posted it. Of course the post had to do with all the craziness going on in our world currently and someone called me out and said that me saying that I didn't remember posting it, was passive aggressive. Maybe because I have lived around, and known those that were passive aggressive and couldn't stand the thought of being clumped into such a group, it kind of made my skin crawl. I have always considered myself a lot of things, but passive aggressive has never been one of them. Whether I am conversing with people one on one or through social media, I always try to be very direct and straight forward. I don't usually shy away from the tough, unpleasant stuff and I try to leave people knowing exactly where I stand on just about any subject. It kind of turns my stomach to think that I might come off to someone in a way that I kind of find icky in others. Then again, I am not responsible for how others view my posts, my thoughts or my opinions. All I am responsible for is my intent, staying true to myself and being as honest as I can be in all things. So if someone sees me in a way I don't find flattering....oh well. That is their business and not mine. I guess, now seeing that in written word.....I am good with it. Was that too passive aggressive?

The other thing that is going on in my brain right now and nearly suffocating out any "normal" thoughts, is all that is going on in the country/world today. It seems to be a mess of missiles coming from all directions that seem to keep exploding on social media and in the news media. There is so much that it causes ones head to spin and makes it nearly impossible to focus on any one event. This it appears, is the theme of 2020....Confusion, Deception, Corruption, Distraction and Misconception. 

We seem to be a world of complexities right now. Nothing is easy or simple if you look at it on the surface. Everything seems to have layers and to do the research or focus on just one thing distracts from all the other things going on in the world. There is to me a great feeling of smoke and mirrors, as if a puppet master is setting a bunch of fires everywhere so that we are too distracted to see the giant inferno that is about to take us all out. Melodramatic? Maybe or maybe it is exactly on point. So how do we survive? How do I survive the garbage this is causing in my brain?

My mother was a brilliant woman. Sadly like most children, I did not appreciate her brilliance until I was old enough and wise enough to know that she was not out of touch with the world, she just simply had more experience in it than I did. She used to tell me to "keep it simple." When everything was chaos and it felt like there was too much or an overload, she would tell me to find the simple core and stick to that. Life organically is simple. It doesn't get complex until humans try to improve on that which doesn't need improved on. Then we just make a mess of everything.

So what is the simple core? It is finding the positive in the negative. It is realizing that none of us can fix the world, but we can take it to the least common denominator....ourselves, and fix us. We can live our individual lives simply, quietly, positively and within the bounds of what we know is right and true.

I have been thinking a lot about that lately. How do I find the simple core with all that is going on around me now? The important thing is to stay true to me. It is easy to get lost in everyone elses beliefs. It is also easy to question my own values and morality when I am inundated from every direction with the negative and the propaganda of the current times. Facts are though, the truth remains the truth, good remains good and evil remains evil. It doesn't get any simpler than that and veering from those three facts only puts layers of confusion and misdirection in the mix.

In my heart and my soul, I know who I am as a human being. I know my positives and my negatives and I know what I as a person need to work on to improve myself and my little part of the world. I cannot let others who don't know me, tell me who I am, how I should or shouldn't behave or that I should feel a certain way contrary to what I know to be true and good.

Right now, I live in a world where good and evil seem to be at war and the two have been vastly confused in the eyes of many. People are so immersed in what they want to believe that the truth doesn't phase them. Simplicity is under fire because the simple core is truth and we have fallen victim to liars and lies. What's worse is the old saying, "Believe nothing of what you hear and only half of what you see," has become "Believe nothing of what you hear or see." We live in a world where lies fall off the tongue of those who govern us and our world of technology makes a lie a proven fact with the touch of a keyboard and little computer ingenuity. We follow evil and proclaim it god, while we trample and blaspheme God as if our very souls were invincible to hell. We claim hell doesn't exist and yet we aren't smart enough to realize that what is going on in the world right now, may just be a G-rated prelude to what many have to look forward to in the after life.

We have become a world of narcissism, disguised as activism. No longer do we care about our fellow humans, we are all about self. Everyone has an agenda and at the highest levels that agenda is money and power, and we the people have been nothing more than an experiment to see how scared we are, how easily lead we are and how quickly we will trade "security" for our rights. If the last few years have taught us anything it has been that as a whole, we are terrified sheep who believe that we will be taken care of if we let the government have their way with us. And the worst part is, the money and the power didn't even have to put up a fight. We handed them our freedom without batting an eye. Why? Because we lost ourselves. We forgot that as a country we were a work in progress, not perfection. We forgot that we were all human beings...none above the other. We forgot all those that had fought and died so that we have the freedoms and rights we have. We forgot what it felt like when Pearl Harbor was bombed and again on 9/11. We have lost our strength and our bravery and the spirit which brought us to this country in the first place. We have traded all of this for apathy, ignorance and "security." We quit being proud Americans and became ashamed of who we are because the media and the money and the power told us we should. We quit using our intelligence and allowed social media to do our thinking for us. The bottom line, we are quickly becoming the history horror stories we used to hear about. Remember when you learned about the Hilter regime and you asked yourself, "How did the people not know?" We should know. We are being told. We just aren't listening.

So I take it back to simple. I cannot, as one person change this world. I can however, stick to what I know to be true, right, moral and good. I can keep my social media very small and my news media non-existent. I can block out the smoke and mirrors and live my life as positively as possible. I can consistently work on doing the next right thing and I can quit listening to the money and the power that tells me right is wrong and good is bad. I can stand my ground and hold to my convictions as a human being, a Christian and an American.

Well, WOW! Just wow! Yes, that was all in my brain. No wonder I can't sleep. I imagine that many of us have similar brains right now. I urge you, like myself to also keep it simple. The reality...there is strength and power in blocking out the complexities and getting down to the simple core. There is also a good bit of peace in doing so, and who among us can't use a little peace right now? 

Racism: My Truth

I did a thing last week. I deactivated my facebook account. I was sick of the sickness of hate and fear being spread across social media and I personally didn't want to see it anymore. It was literally affecting my mental status and trickling down into my daily life. I had to do something to change myself as it was obvious I have no control over anyone else.

Of course being able to stay deactivated is not as easy as it sounds, as I am an administrator for several facebook groups, so I reactivated, but I hid my fb app button so that it was not automatically the first button I hit when I got on my computer or my phone and I only go on fb when my notifications tell me that someone has specifically tried to message me or tagged me. It has worked beautifully. It has also given me some much needed time to think without social media and the news media trying to influence my thoughts. It has given me some much needed peace too, as well as a chance to process who I am in this world and how I or if I fit into all the unrest. The following is my feelings, beliefs....my truth if you will on racism in 2020.

I have never owned slaves in my lifetime. While I may have family members in my family tree who have, I doubt it. My family was mainly white republicans who fought for the north against slavery. Those of my family who were from the south were so poor that they themselves were often times hired out as help. And....my family underwent their share of discrimination and racism as they were poor Irish Catholics who came to this country by ship and who were treated as if they were less than animals. This was another less than glorious time in our countries history, but you actually hear little about it.

The facts of my life are this. If I see someone who is hurt or in danger, skin color makes no difference. I help. If I am standing in line in the supermarket and the person in front of me does not have the money to cover their groceries, skin color makes no difference. I help. Skin color has never once in my life affected how I treated another human being and I can't see that ever changing. To me, character, soul and what is on the inside matter. Color is external and means very little to me.

My first best friend in first grade was a little girl named Lisa. She was one of the first in the desegregation process to be bussed. She was a beautiful little black girl whose hair was always done in braids. Perhaps I was drawn to her because she was different. Most of us feel different at one time or another and at 6 years old, it is hard to be in a new school all the way across town with kids who are white and you are black. I remember thinking that I didn't want her to be scared or alone, two things I was sure that I would have felt had the shoe been on the other foot. We hit it off and were fast friends in the classroom and on the playground. Color didn't matter, except for the fact that she used to say that she was a chocolate ice cream cone and I was a vanilla ice cream cone. We were different colors but we were both still ice cream.

While I can't speak to life during the desegregation process in other parts of the country, in little Wichita, KS, my experience and what I saw were much different I am sure, than what was going on in more urban parts of the country. Yes, Wichita had it's place in helping to change racism but when it came to bussing, both sides had a tough time dealing. Before bussing took place in Wichita, there were black neighborhoods and white neighborhoods and each had schools, most of the time within walking distance in those neighborhoods. In an era where many homes had either no cars or only one car, having your child within walking distance was almost a necessity. When bussing began though, both white and black families were put on a lottery and during the summer, if your number came up, your family/kids would be bussed across town to a different school come fall. While this was a wonderful thing in the respect of desegregation, it was tough for families with kids who had to be on a bus at 6 a.m. and often didn't make it home until after 5 p.m. Those were long days for little ones and although equality was what was wanted and needed, starting out, it was throwing kids into completely different surroundings, different culture and with different people of a different color. Those were not easy times, even for 6 year olds who had no idea what racism was and why they couldn't stay in their own neighborhoods and go to their own school with friends they had known forever.

Even though we lived in Kansas in the 1960's, there was still a pretty decent amount of unrest. My mom and Lisa's mom met at a school open house. Being little girls who wanted to play together and not just at school, I still remember our mothers trying to figure out a way for us to make it happen. After much discussion, it came down to the fact that Lisa's mom said at the current time it probably wasn't safe for a little white girl to be playing in their neighborhood, and she didn't feel comfortable with Lisa coming to my house as it was an all white neighborhood. Neither mom was upset, it was just the times we lived in. Only Lisa and I were upset and being six, neither of us understood that our color was the reason we couldn't play together.

The next year my family moved and from my second grade year until my seventh grade year, I was in several different schools. I went from an all white Catholic school, to a school in New Mexico with a variety of kids of colors and races as we lived right off an Air Force Base. Then I moved to a small oil town back in Kansas where the kids were actually about a half black and half white. I was pretty proficient at making friends wherever I went and my friendships were never based on color. They were always based on whoever seemed to take a liking to you for whatever reason.

When I moved to the current town I live in back in the 1970's, it was predominantly white. I believe there was only one black family in the town and I really didn't know them because their kids weren't around my age. I think this was the first time I ever realized what racism was though. I worked in a grocery store as a checkout person and the store management was mostly older people. Now I was taught to respect people (especially my elders) regardless of what I thought. I also knew that respecting them, didn't always mean agreeing with them. The first time I was working when the black family came in, it was just the man and his wife. When they went up and down the aisles to shop, it was as if people just avoided the aisles they were on. Then when it was time to check them out, no checker could be found. At that point, I was still just a sack girl and had not been trained to check yet. I remember trying to call a checker to the front and being so embarrassed that none were coming. Eventually, I went and dragged one out of the break room and made it uncomfortable enough that she had to check them out. She was about 50 and very rude and cold to them. I carried out their groceries and apologized to them. They were so kind. From the moment I became a checker, I made sure to be up at the front if they came in and they never had to wait to be checked out. My manager never said anything to me, although I know he watched me check them out, several times. I remember talking to my mother about this and her saying, "You respect that you have a job. You can't change your managers but you can be the best person and best employee you can be. Make that family feel respected when they come in, even if it's by no one but you." So I did.

It wasn't until I was an adult and worked at a hospital that I peered into the world we lived in yet again. At the hospital I worked with all kinds of people who were all colors and all ethnicities. One girl that I worked with, I really liked. She was very smart and knew her job well and she was the "go to" person for any questions. She was patient, kind and knowledgeable. She was also black. She was about my age at the time which was early 20's and she had developed a blood clot in her leg. I remember it being a very scary situation and all of us who worked with her were concerned. The clot eventually dissolved but during the time, she continued to try and work as much as possible. Then she found out she was pregnant. She was so excited and we were so excited for her. We spent weeks planning gifts for the baby shower we knew her mom was going to have for her. When the party day arrived, it was on a hot Saturday in the middle of the summer. One by one we all showed up to her mother's house which happened to be in a black neighborhood. The party was outdoors and started in the afternoon. It was a big affair with all of her family and local friends there. The only whites there were us 10 or so coworkers. I really thought nothing of it and had a wonderful time. Everyone was so nice and so kind and she had a such a good time celebrating the impending birth of her child. As the afternoon began to turn into evening and people began to leave, I started helping to clean up. I was one of the few left and the only white girl left. When her mother realized I was still there, she literally grabbed my purse and walked me quickly to my car. She was very kind but told me that I had to leave immediately and to keep my windows rolled up and to not stop for anyone no matter what. I had no idea why but I did as I was told. The next Monday at work, I asked my friend why her mother had acted that way. I thought perhaps I had done something wrong. No. She explained that whites in a black neighborhood after dark were safe for no one. She didn't want me to risk getting hurt. I truly had no idea that it was even a possibility.

Since that time, I have known blacks of all income levels, religions, skin variations, political affiliations and beliefs. I have known some of the nicest, kindest blacks and I have known blacks that were liars, thieves and wished me harm. The contrast to that is that I have also known whites of all income levels, religions, skin variations, political affiliations and beliefs. I have known some of the nicest, kindest whites and I have known whites that were liars, thieves and wished me harm.

I am not black and therefore I cannot know what it feels like to be black. I don't know what struggles they have personally gone through and I don't know their anger and frustration. What I do know is that I have never been unkind to anyone because of the color of their skin. I have never thought less of or treated someone with malice, hate or cruelty because they were black, brown or any other color. I would help any human of any color if I saw they needed it and I can sure tell you that I wouldn't stand back and take video if I thought another human being was in trouble or dying.

I will not apologize for being white and I will not feel bad for being who I am as a person. I am just as God made me. I cannot change those who hate for the sake of hating or those who let color decide a persons worth. I cannot change the past, nor the actions of those in the past. I cannot change the bad in people of all colors and I can't make people hear my words. All I can do is continue to be me. To make sure that I am the best person I can be and to teach the same to my kids and grand kids. I can just keep trying to do the next right thing.

The sins of the past cannot be atoned for by those who had no hand in them. Hate will not be quelled with more hate. Ignorance and fear are the most infectious diseases out there and as long as they are allowed to fester, we will continue to create more of each. Until we come together as human beings and quit allowing ourselves to be divided, we will all remain losers in the fight for equality and respect. You can't allow your anger to rule you, regardless of how justified you feel it is, for anger never solved anything but can destroy everything.

All races/skin colors/ethnicities should be proud of who they are. Finding pride in yourself and who you are, does not discount it in others. I am proud of who I am as a white person, a woman, a mother, a grandmother and a human being. I have never done anything to disrespect anyone and I think it is time that we all start seeing and celebrating the pride in who we are as individuals.

My truth may not be your truth, but it does not make it invalid nor wrong. I pray everyday for the country and all the humans (regardless of color) who live here. Peace and the ability to equally live side by side are the goals, but until then, I pray we all just find some common ground and a place to begin in the here and now.