I cannot believe it’s been over a year since my last Blog post. Time really does fly.
My reason for taking a break was very intentional. My family is in the midst of litigation over the wrongful death of our father and it was suggested to us that we should be careful on social media. And so, because I was too lazy to look back at my first 50 posts to see if I had ever mentioned the defendants by name, I decided to pause.
It has been just over three years since dad passed away. And two and a half years since mom left us. And, if those losses were not enough, it has been just over one year since I was fired from a job I loved and my career was destroyed.
I decided a couple of weeks ago that I would start writing again, but I wasn’t sure where to start. Really. There is SO much to write about.
Back in the nineties I took some classes at a local community college. One was a course in public speaking and the professor had us keep a journal for the duration of the class. One of those black and white composition notebooks… a required one entry every day. Just one page. I was an adult in my thirties and I embraced the assignment. Others–mostly much younger than I–not so much. While they couldn’t think of things to write about, I couldn’t choose which things to write about.
Since I decided a couple of weeks ago that I would start writing again, I have not been able to calm the chaos in my head in order to choose a subject to write about.
What it’s like to be an “orphan” at 53 with no parents? What it’s like to have been fired from a job I loved, ending a career that was truly an answer to a calling, and, at the same time, being separated from an organization I believed in while in the midst of the most difficult time of my life? What it’s like to create a new beginning and find complete joy? Racism and social injustice? Islamophobia and xenophobia? The tragedy of gun violence and the idiocy and paranoia around the 14th Amendment and the NRA? Planned Parenthood and the pro-life/pro-choice debate? The issue of police brutality and good cops vs. bad cops? “Happy Holidays” vs. “Merry Christmas?”
The list goes on. And on. And on and on and on…
Here’s the thing. No matter what the debate is; no matter how grim things look; no matter how many people I piss off; and no matter how many friends I lose… I am confident that my views are correct. My hope for humanity is real. My love for “the other” is true. And my dream of growing old in the crazy world we live in will be realized.
But, today, on a much smaller scale, this is the story I wish to share.
Several years ago, because of several wonderful women in my life, I decided to get a license to drive a motorcycle and I bought one. It was a love affair. I remember that I rode my bike to my mom’s apartment one night and while we had dinner together, I tired to explain how I felt about it.
“Let me put it this way. If I were to die on this bike, you can rest assured that I died happy.”
Well. That is not what mothers want to hear from their daughters.
But that is what I feel today. In the midst of the chaos in my head. I am in love with my life. I am in love with my friends and family. I am in love with the place I live. I am in love with how I spent the last 48 hours of my time.
And, truly… despite all of the issues that make me crazy and sad… if I were to not wake up tomorrow morning, my friends and family could rest assured that I died happy. And that I did my part.
(I actually wrote this Blog back in December 2015 and have no idea why I didn’t post it.)