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I just wrote this to OgreVI in response to his forward of an Alternet post re Bill Moyers' post on Jeremiah Wright ( http://www.alternet.org/election08/84330) and now somehow feel compelled to share it more widely.... **************************************** ******************** You know, I've been thinking a lot about Jeremiah Wright. And, I've come to two realizations: (1) One of the reasons that he makes us so uncomfortable is that truth hurts, and he is dangerously close to the truth. When we've terrorized other countries, why are we surprised when they terrorize us? (2) I'm not black, and I can't know what it feels like to be black. But, I'll bet you that -- if I were a black man in this country -- I would be angry too. I just saw a piece on 60 Minutes on Sunday about this group in Texas (can't remember their names, but the story is at http://www.cbsnews.com/stories/2008/05/02/60minutes/main4065454.shtml) who are doing DNA research to exonerate men falsely convicted by DA Henry Wade. Before they even showed the pictures of the men, I said to Visiting Cousin Cynthia, "I'll bet they're all black." And, except for one man, they WERE all black....So, yes, I would be angry. Heck, I feel anger about THAT even though I'm not a black man. As OgreVI says, "Gotta love Bill Moyers...." Tags: racism
Current Location: conference call -- should be listening
Current Mood:  frustrated
Current Music: Marvin Gaye
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The job Granbuba has makes her travel some – not as much as she used to, but much more than she likes. She’s usually pretty good at traveling. Every time Granbuba flies, she has an adventure. This is the first of those adventures, written for Davey and Olivia and all the grandchildren that follow them. In cold and snowy January, Granbuba left Joe and Josh and her doggies and kitty and flew to Minneapolis to be with David and Olivia – She calls them “Davey” and “Livi” – and to visit their mama on her 32d birthday. Granbuba had a very good visit indeed. She especially loved visiting the Mall of American with Davey and Livi and their mama. (Anyone who knows how much Granbuba usually hates malls will have a hard time believing this. Granbuba believes we should all still be shopping at downtown department stores, like Macy’s in Chicago and Wanamaker’s in Philadelphia. And the Diamond Department Store in Charleston, WV, where Granbuba used to eat in the tea room with her mama….) Davey and Livi’s papa was at work and couldn’t go to the mall with them. He works very hard. Davey likes to say that Papa is strong and that he loves God. And he does! On the last morning of her visit – it was a Tuesday, and the visit had been way too short – Granbuba did not want to leave Davey and Livi and their mama and papa. But, she wanted to get back home to Joe and Josh and to Uncle Ricky and Uncle Teddy. So Mama and the children took Granbuba to the Minneapolis airport, just in time for her to check in. “Check in” is something people do at those big desks in the airport. It lets the pilot know that you’re there. When everyone’s there, he can take off. Most of the time. But, not when Granbuba flies, because Granbuba always has flying adventures. Granbuba checked in at the computer and shuffled sadly off to the security gate. She was feeling pretty sad that she had to leave Davey and Livi. Granbuba got to the desk where a security guard in a very handsome uniform checks drivers licenses to make sure all the travelers are who they say they are. It’s the desk right before the gates, where you have to walk through a metal detector. Suddenly, Granbuba heard her name called over a loud speaker that every one in the terminal could hear. The Voice told her to return to the check-in desk. So, she got out of line to return to the check-in desk only to find that she had left her suitcase at the desk without checking it in. In the old days, this would not have been a problem. But, these days it is a big problem. It’s fortunate that Granbuba has white hair and a look of harmlessness. Otherwise, the Security Guard might have arrested her for leaving luggage unattended! So, Granbuba checked her suitcase and then had to return to the security line – which now had 50 people in line in front of her. She didn’t mind – there was a young couple there with 4 children, and the children reminded her of Davey and Livi. She had fun talking to them. She realized she had walked off and left her suitcase because she was thinking only about how she was going to miss them. Seeing the other children, though, reminded her that she would see them again soon. And she will. Tags: grandchildren
Current Location: on break at work
Current Mood:  happy
Current Music: I'll Be Seeing You...
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My husband was born on Sunday, December 12, 1948. He's been gone now these 10 years, but he was such an extraordinary person that the missing of him is as fresh for all of us as it was in 1998. I continue to ask myself why. And, why he's in my dreams almost every single night (without fail). I have asked his best friend, Dan Ice, to write a brief bio to help us all make sense of it.... He was born the same year as Prince Charles and always took delight in monitoring the prince's activities and relating them to his own. I must say that, while he was from time-to-time marriage-challenged (as was I), he was a good husband and compared not at all with the prince in that regard. Brilliant (he had a psychological test once while he was in college, and the psychologist shared with me on the phone that he envied Rick's IQ), he was also earning-disabled. Some day I may write a memoir; and, with regard to simple provision, it may sound like fiction, but it would be factual -- like the period of time that we gleaned soy beans from the field close to my parents-in-law because it was the only way to get protein in our diet. Somehow, Rick made all that seem like an adventure. And, life with him -- both for the children (I think) and for me -- was sometimes difficult, but it was never never NEVER dull. We never knew what sort of "fringe person" he would bring home next. At one point, when he was a student and we were at our poorest, he brought home a newly-homeless fellow student to live with us for a few weeks; and it turned out that the friend had a tapeworm. Well, you get the picture. Zero leftovers to work with! Rick was born (we think -- it may have happened shortly after birth, but that's another story for another time) with an aortic stenosis; so we all knew that his life expectancy wasn't the same as the average person's. But, since he was anything BUT average (and, in fact, was quite vigorous physically) we just didn't think he was that sick. He cooked dinner for the 2-year-old twins in our care on the night he died and died in front of TV news -- with other news playing on the Internet. Fitting -- he breathed life into the term "news junkie." We buried him in his finest clothes -- which weren't really all that fine, but we did come up with a nice blue shirt (always his preference) and tie and jacket. However, those of us who looked closely noticed that he had a hole in the toe of his sock. And, no one but the family knows that under the blue shirt was a tee-shirt that said, "Women love me; bass fear me." Above all things, Rick loved the Lord Jesus, and he would want me to say that. He certainly did struggle with sins (as do we all); but at the bottom of everything was a wholehearted and thorough-going commitment to Orthodox Christianity, mere Christianity -- as CS Lewis would call it. And, a hatred of sentimentality but a love of emotion -- and particularly with emotion related to his faith in the Lord Jesus Christ. Read Chuck McGuigan on this (if you can find his wonderful article from the Richmond papers of 1998 -- I can't) if you don't believe me. I used to tell him that he wouldn't be "waiting on the far side bank of Jordan" for me because he'd be in eternity, and I -- though living -- would already be there. Amen. Tags: birthday, rick
Current Location: office -- I'm on a day-long conference call at the moment
Current Mood:  contemplative
Current Music: I'll Be Waiting on the Far Side Bank of Jordan (Allison Krauss)
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I haven't written much about the twins -- who've been in my legal custody since they were 23 months old, in June of 1997 -- 8 short months before my husband's untimely death at the age of 49. Really, I wish I had kept a journal. There have been so many crazy things they've done. And so many sweet things. And so many things that...well, that just aren't the kinds of things really sane people do. There are behaviors that are impossible to believe. Or, sometimes, to describe (which is probably why I haven't written much). So, here's the most recent. Josh -- who is really pretty bright -- is failing math and reading (though he has always had one of the highest number of "AR" points, that is, accelerated reader, points -- (if you have children in Cabell County, WV, schools, you know about this) in the school. He simply doesn't pay attention. He's very distracted. So, I talked with his paternal grandmother on the way home this evening. She has never once in 10.5 years been to visit them in their home. Has never sent them a card. She DID send them a Christmas present one time, 2 years ago. They have seen her because I take them to visit. But, she makes no effort toward seeing them -- even though she's driven from central VA to Charleston for the greyhound races. But, I digress. So, she called me because I had gotten some facts wrong on the geni.com site my big boys (OgreVI and Cliff) and I are working on, and she wanted to straighten out my memory. After I told her I'd call her tomorrow about that, when I wasn't driving 75 mph on Interstate 64, I mentioned to her that the boys were struggling, that Josh is failing two classes. She said, "Well, they have a lot to sidetrack them in schools these days." I said, "Right. But, he still has to buckle down and learn math and get control of this situation." I wanted to tell her that I'm getting them counseling and tutoring and to talk in detail about what they are doing. She, however, agreed with my simple statement -- never pursuing it -- then changed the conversation back to the old people and the genealogy. No more about the boys. No questions for more details. No wonderings about their social, physical, spiritual, educational, mental development. I guess I just don't understand.... Tags: twins
Current Location: sitting on the couch, watching 6:00 news
Current Mood: baffled
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Today is my mother's birthday. It would have been her 98th. I want to put down some thoughts and memories about her because -- along with my daugher Debby -- she is my favorite woman.
My mother grew up at a time when women didn't even think about their potential, much less what their potential might be. She was very smart and could have been successful in business. However, she had to quit school in the 7th grade to work and help support the family (her mom, dad, 3 sisters, a niece, and a nephew -- all who lived in the same modest home). I know that she worked at Purity Maid Bakery, Woolworths, and National Towel in Charleston, WV. I do not know if she worked elsewhere.
She continued to work till she was in her 30s and brought her paycheck home every week. She was also expected to clean on the weekends. By that time, her father was dead; and she niece and nephew were on their own. Her mother and sisters basically lived on some form of welfare, and hers was the only paycheck. My mother married my dad when she was 32 (he was 25) -- Saturday, December 13, 1941, 6 days after Pearl Harbor. They had to elope because my Grandmother S**** did not like my father. In truth, it was probably losing her source of income that she didn't like. They were married in Elk Funeral Home in Charleston. The story was that that was the only place they could find a minister. I don't know why. Mother didn't like to talk about the past, and the information I have I pried from her.
After the marriage ceremony, they both returned to their own homes and didn't tell anyone they were married for several weeks. I was born 5 years later. I remember asking her once if I was an accident or if I had been planned. She blushed and said, "Barbara...." and didn't answer for some time. Then she admitted I was an accident -- but a very pleasant one. My mother cared for my father -- who was probably something like the father C. S. Lewis describes in his autobiography SURPRISED BY JOY. Funny, warm, difficult. So, I think in some ways I was the joy of her life, aside from her faith, that is -- which was very strong. She and my father had me at the Bible Center Church (fundamentalist, in those days) every time the doors opened.
They took me to the Greyhound Bus Station on Summers Street when I was 17 and sent me off to school at Moody Bible Institute in Chicago. I had never been out of WV, and Charleston was the biggest city I'd ever been to. I cried with homesickness for a year and a half. I'd call home just about every day (I can't even begin to imagine how they paid for that), crying. My father would say, "Just get on the bus and come home." But, my mother would say, "I think you should try to stay for one more day. Do you think you can do that? Stay for one more day?" And, I would say I could; so I got through one and a half years of "one more days." She did that -- not because she didn't miss me (she became a diabetic the semester I left home, some say due to the stress) but because she wanted me to learn to be strong and independent. She would never let me work around the house because she said that was HER job. MY job was to be a student. She wanted me to have opportunities. I love and cherish every single memory of her -- even the ones where she was switching my legs because I wasn't getting with the program. (I didn't get nearly as many switchings as I deserved, had she known the whole truth.)
Tonight I will lift a chicken leg in her memory ("I like the back, the breast, and all the rest....") and will look forward to the day when I get to see her again. I want to thank her. I'm not sure I ever thanked her enough. And, I want to hug her. I KNOW that I never hugged her enough. Tags: bigley avenue, memorial, mother
Current Location: work (lunch)
Current Mood: grateful
Current Music: He the Pearly Gates Will Open
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