What If ???????

What if ?

He will bring fathers and children together again; otherwise I would have to come and destroy your country." Malachi 4:6 Christian Standard Bible

What if Covid had a purpose beyond our limited human understanding?

Most Americans have repeatedly heard the pleas to help provide clean water in the Sudan, or help people who have been displaced from war, or adopt an animal that has been abused, or pray for children who are gravely ill.  I, like I’m sure all of you, feel my heart pricked.  I want to help every worthy cause, but I know that I don’t have the resources to do so.

As if our Heavenly Father was reaching through the misty veil of forgetfulness Covid strikes the entire world.  It’s spread because our community is global rather than just a few miles.  

Back in the 60’s the OBX was very hospitable and through my various research I have come to believe that it always has been.  It was considered very rude to not have something nourishing to offer anyone who may come visiting.  Many a day I had a cup of pinto beans that Estelle Meekins had cooked on her pot belly stove.  Aunt Isabel’s garden was the stuff of legends.  Eating strawberries right off the ground and tomato sandwiches within minutes of picking them.  Mrs. Brantley always had fresh lemonade and homemade cookies for us kids.  The Spakes always welcomed any of us kids as though we were their own.

When one person hurt we all hurt.  When one person was sick we all helped out.  When a classmate was struggling we all pitched in to try to help them learn.

Our modern age has cultivated less caring.  Less Altruism.  Less patience.  Less smiling.  Less understanding.  Less love.  Less courage.  Less will-power.  Less acceptance.  Less trust.  Less mindful living.  Less church attendance.  Less faith.  Less inter-dependence.  Less harmony.  Less kindness.  Less helpfulness.  Less peace.  Less unity.  Less cultivation of our minds.  Less faith.  Less honesty.  Less peace.  Less harmony.  Less of ‘we’.

With Covid we have had to confront the reality that there are different levels of living and expressions of a happy life yet we are all interconnected.  Indeed when a butterfly flutters on the other side of the world there are consequences thousands of miles away.

The things that change the world are tiny seemingly trivial actions.  Eve ate the forbidden fruit.  It didn’t seem like such a big thing.  When David Blair was reassigned before the maiden voyage of  the Titanic he took the key to the Crow’s Nest Locker which is where the most powerful binoculars which ultimately disallowed the crew from seeing the iceberg in time to avoid a collision.  Nagasaki was hit with the world’s first nuclear bomb, but it had been intended for Kokura.  The New York blackout in 1977 gave rise to a new music genre called Hip Hop. 

So how are we to know just what is important?  What events will change our world?  How will the loss of a person change the future?  How can we feel safe anywhere or for that matter anytime?

I’m reminded of one of the science fiction shows, or maybe it was a movie, but time travelers went back in time where the travel company had installed a type of hovering walkway.  The time traveling tourists were admonished to not step off the path because anything could change the future.  One of the tourists anciently stepped off and killed a butterfly.  That butterfly was the lineage of a butterfly that a young man would chase in the countryside.  Since it was never born the young Hitler instead focused on inequalities. 

I was raised with the saying “do what I say, not what I do”.  It took the longest time for me to understand that.  Once I had an understanding I realized that I should, as much as possible, act according to my words.  When I was a pre-med student we were asked to come up with a hypothesis that could be proven or disproven from observation then to follow through and see if the results were as we expected.  My idea was to see who actually washed their hands after visiting the toilet.  If memory serves correctly it was more than 75% of people who did not wash their hands.

So is it any wonder that we have a pandemic?  We, for the most part, pursue that which is in our individual best interests with perhaps a sharing with close family members.  We see someone’s failings and jump in to take an opportunity.  We jump on the bandwagon of making fun of others because they look different than we do, or they have a different way of believing in God, or even how many step-parents they have.  We routinely throw away eatable food with little regard to those who go hungry.  We lack compassion for those who are sick most especially by something that they themselves contributed to.  We think as we observe the difficulties others have that we could and would handle things better.  We squash hope whenever it attempts to dawn.  

We assume we have a complete understanding of all situations in our lives.  Nothing could be farther from the truth.

Until we change the cause of our global dysfunction we will not see positive personal growth on a large scale.  The strongest usually wins.  The toughest usually dominates.  The smartest usually supervises.  This is wrong-thinking.  Living in community is a part of our biological makeup.  We suffer because we focus on the differences instead of the commonalities.

In order to impact the world to be and do better we must practice the qualities that you want reflected back at you.

Take a metal spoon and look at it as though you were going to eat with it.  Have it right in front of your eyes.  What do you see?  Now turn it around so that the back of the spoon is facing you.  What do you see?  When we are focused on ourselves the world is upside down, but when we focus on others things are  upright if even it struggles to do so and the progress is slow.

We will never be able to deal with the present until we have come to terms with the past and made dramatic changes so that we can leave the world better for our children.

Namaste 

Be Around Good People

 

Tonight I attended a virtual lecture.  Growing up my Mom and Grandparents said “You’re known by the company you keep”.  That is a huge understatement.  

With whom we choose to have in our lives impacts and shapes us.  If we are around folks who complain incessantly then we begin to feel negativity creeping into our life.  If we are around people who use disrespectful language we begin to think in rude terms.  If we are around people who are dishonest we may immolate them unaware.  If we are around people who have no direction and eat up their time with useless endeavors we too are wasting our time.

My niece hung out with the wrong people.  It cost her the privilege of living.

When we were in school in Texas (we were there for almost two years with my Dad) there was an abandoned house that students skipped school and hung out taking drugs.  One day the police raided it.  Some of the students were just hanging out and wasn’t using the drugs.  They all got arrested.  They all were convicted.  They all had a diversion in their young lives that was not pleasant.

How many times have we heard about kids that are killed because their friend was buzzed while driving.

Once in Calculus II I saw a fellow student cheating.  Even with his book open on the floor he failed the test, and in fact failed the course.  you never get ahead by cheating.  You can pretend for only so long.  Eventually you have to prove yourself.  You either know it or you don’t.

I have a ‘friend’ who gets angry quickly and takes childish actions without any thought what-so-ever.  What do they add to my life?  More importantly perhaps is the question of how much negativity do I allow to shed off the relationship?

When I didn’t have the courage to walk away from a partnership that was doing business in a way that I couldn’t condone, God ended it for me.  It turned out to be a blessing.  Perhaps some will know of what I refer - perhaps not.  The fault was mine.  Once I knew that we were at odds I should have ended it myself.

In the past I’ve done well when I’ve remembered the simple truth to work with those who have your same values and goals.  I’ve always striven to do whatever I undertake with excellence.  Sometimes I’ve lost my way.

Then my meandering mind turns towards my faith.  While I respect everyone and have many friends who are not ‘christians’ yet they are honorable people astute in treating others the way they would want to be treated.  We are called to love not judge.  The big ‘gift’ we have is the ability to choose.  Our Heavenly Father is merciful, and our souls are a part of him.  We are all connected whether we want to be or not.  When a butterfly flaps it’s wings in China we feel the flutter here.

I’ve been harmed by the dishonesty of others.  It’s cost me a lot this past two years.  I have also relearned the truth of we can’t put our destiny in the hands of others.  Oh sure sometimes we have to like when we are having surgery, or trust the pharmacist to fill our medication correctly.  It is a universal truth though that nobody will look at your well-being in business more than yourself.

I’ve also learned that what I offer isn’t valued.  Working when your sick, canceling your plans so that others can attend a friends wedding, showing up on time, working late, being honest and working for less than $3 an hour so that students can be taught excellence isn’t appreciated.  When I’m told one thing and then the person does something totally opposite never taking into account the cost to me I should be done. When my expenses are out of pocket and I’m told to submit a report and I’m only paid for one trip to Hatteras rather than the innumerable miles driven on behalf of the employer I should have been done.

In my way of thinking folks should be honest.  If there is a concern talk about it.  Blindsiding someone is never OK.  I’ve been blindsided a few times in the last two years.  

So if you are around people who make you feel less than you are, or people doing illegal things, or people who take you for granted, or people who hurt you (intentionally or not), or people who take your work as their own, or people who talk badly about you (it’s palpable), or people who are dishonest with you, or people who say untrue things about you, or people who take more from you then they will ever give, or assume you will always be there to take the ‘abuse’, or tell you how you can never do a thing, or don’t believe in you then move on.

Move on to people who add to your life.  Move on to business entities that work with integrity.  Move on to friends who want your best for you.  Move on to a faith group that supports you, your beliefs and helps you grow.  Be generous, but don’t throw your pearls after swine.  Perhaps most important of all remember that you are enough, you can do whatever you need to  and you are loved by people that you haven’t even met yet.

I’ve recently been told by a family member that I’m no good, that I have ‘nothing’ and that I’m incapable of caring for them.  I’ve been in caregiver mode for decades.  Literally decades.  Perhaps with a little bit of pride I would like to prove them wrong.  All my income producing plans were destroyed by Covid.  But, I’m learning a new way.  I’m praying daily for help with what I can offer in exchange for revenue.  

 2021 will offer new opportunities, but I will never again allow others to be in control of my business.  I will never again be stroked by velvety words only to find that I’m being gaslighted.  I’m intent on reclaiming the real me.  So watch out world.  I’ve been through a lot, I’ve overcome a lot and I’ve achieved a lot.

For Your Eyes Only

 

I was only 19.  I had worked for a year for my second Ice Capades audition.  The two solos that I skated for it was “Fame” which was very jazzy, and “For Your Eyes Only” which was graceful and artistic.

My journey had started just four years earlier.   Looking back I realize how quickly I progressed.   My first audition was scary.  I did the kick line just fine and I didn’t have a solo prepared.  I was given notes and told to come back the next year.

During that year I worked so hard.  Physical conditioning was over the top.  I’m talking jogging up and down stadium stairs - in my skates with rubber blade guards.  It meant 4:30am figure private ice.  It meant being able to do a long program and appear to not be winded.  It meant that I tested and passed in Ice Dance, Free Style and Figures.  My Mom was there for my first audition and told me that I had her complete support but that I should spend the next year singularly focused.  So that’s what I did.

First I had to have a pair of professional custom made skates.  They cost $1800.  One of my Grandfather’s bought them for me.  It meant going professional by coaching and teaching.  That meant no more competitions.  The pay was minuscule, but it was what was required.  It also meant that I would become a National Figure Skating Association Trial Judge. My coaches pushed me very hard.  At one point I was able to stand flat footed, jump straight up and make a full revolution before landing solidly where I started.

The day that I was able to do a Russian Split jump I was overjoyed.  My figures improved - I was a perfectionist.  See you are required to make ‘figures’ on virgin ice and restate them exactly in the same tracing.  This created a discipline that paid off on the ice when doing high level programs.  

I also had challenges outside the physical.  The church that I attended sent a few older ladies to the rink to harass me every chance they could.  They felt I was wasting my time and that the costumes (like the one in the photo above) were too revealing.  The rink got them legally ejected from the rink.  It was this that made me use “For Your Eyes Only”.  I had come to a moment when I realized that God had given me this meteoric rise in a skill I never would have imagined and all I had to do is look for his eyes - not others.

The week of my second audition came.  Me, and a few other skaters, hung out with the show skaters playing broom ball and just loving the ice.  The audition began at 1am that night.  Mom and I went to the coliseum in Charlotte.  This year I had prepared as well as I could.  Show ice is very rough, I had learned to keep my teeth apart as I did my routine. 

My first routine was Fame.  It should athleticism, strength and control.  Then I did “For Your Eyes Only”.  This would show my grace borrowing heavily from my dance classes.  I wore glasses, but never on the ice.  I could see well enough and still can in a pinch.  Two things happened.  First they turned on the mirror ball to see how I would handle it.  Tricky, tricky, tricky.  What they didn’t know is that I had already done this routine dozens of times on dark ice with just a mirror ball.

But then laughter erupted from the stands.  This is where the troop, coaches, ice skating headliners, managers and my Mom were sitting.  i didn’t let it bother me and I stayed in my character.  I finished the program flawlessly and when the lights came up I skated off the ice to a standing ovation by folks that were very much better than me.  I kept my smile on, put on my skate guards and was asked to wait with my Mom for a bit.

When I sat down she was so proud.  I kept smiling, but I was actually about to cry.  I didn’t understand what I had done that was so funny.  She said “You didn’t see the cat did you?”. NO.

She said that a cat had gotten onto the ice and followed me around the entire “For Your Eyes Only” routine.  It had scampered away when the house lights came on.  Since I had kept my head up I never saw it.

The Director calls me over and asks if I can join the European Troop in three months.  I was elated. I was given a packet of information and the show hired a local choreographer.  We kept Fame and added “Double Dutch Bus”.  I got my trunk and went about preparing.  One of the requirements for women is you had to have a pregnancy test (I was a virgin) and a clean bill of health from both a primary physician and an OB GYN.

I was handling my Type 1 Diabetes fine so Dr. Green signed off.  My OB GYN went way differently.

I bled 3 out of every 4 weeks since I was 13.  I just ignored it and kept going.  My previous OB GYN told me it was normal.  There was also intense pain.  Again I was told to ignore it, so I did.  Dr. Fisher, the new OB GYN,  told me that he couldn’t sign off for the show.  He gave me two choices.  I could have a complete hysterectomy and join the show in 6 months, or I could quit skating and go through two years of treatment for the severe case of endometriosis I had and MAYBE one day have a child.

I chose my daughter.  It was so hard.  I was put on a type of chemo-therapy that made me very sick. The show was supportive and for many, many years I had the letter they sent me helping to ease the decision.  The day I cleaned out my coaches office and locker was hard.  It was hard returning my trunk.  I had my giant show suitcase until our house flooded three years ago.  In my young mind a dream had been realized, but then I was given the opportunity to choose life for another.  I didn’t skate for two years.  i still had it but I wasn’t allowed to condition to a professional level again.  If I had I would have lost the chance to have my daughter.

I buried myself in college.  I earned a BA in Psychology from UNCC and later my PhD from AIU.  I have no regrets.  I made the right decision.  My Mom was with me every step of the way.  I have so many cherished memories from that time.  All the ‘stars’ I met and skated with (Peggy Fleming, Randy Gardner, Tia Babylonia, Dorothy Hamill, to name a few).  The show skaters kept in contact for years.  I did visit with them every year when they came through Charlotte.

My time as a skater was one of the many highlights of my life.  I often feel my body soaring through the air and can sometimes be caught going through the moves.  Those days visit me often in my dreams.  I learned that I could do whatever I put my mind to - just like my Mom taught me.  

My daughter was born 9 years after the diagnosis.  Dr. Fisher delivered her.  She came 16 weeks early due to a heredity defect that we weren’t aware of until that night.  He cried when he saw me afterwards.  She is almost 31 now and the story of her birth is for another time.

Follow your dreams.  do what is required.  Achieve your goals.  Don’t let ANYONE tell you that you can’t, that you aren’t good enough or you don’t have the talent.  

9-11

 September 11, 2001. -  We were so naive.  In many ways we still are.  Here is my 9-11 story.

I was the Director of the Civil Patrol Unit of the Charlotte Mecklenburg Police Department.  Our scope of enforcement had been increased just a couple of months before.  We were the ones that cited folks for using accessible parking without a permit, parking in fire lanes, etc.....  I was considered a Peace Officer.

What most folks don’t realize that the World Trade Centers were monitored by units from all over America on a rotating basis.  That week it was CMPD’s turn.  My Sargent was to lead the group.  I had been briefed that I would need to go to Chief Darrel Stephens if anything serious happened that I needed help with.

I was at the courthouse.  The news flashed on a screen.  It was unbelievable.  My assumption was that our group was in NYC and that I needed to report to the Chief, which I did.  Suddenly my unit was vitally important.  Everyone was called on to do patrolling and report any vehicles that were illegally parked - the thinking was that car bombs or other terrorism threats.  There was no layer of protection between fire lanes or accessible parking for any building.  

The national command center was set up in warp speed next to my office.  Nobody knew that and we weren’t to tell anyone.  I had top level clearance so I was right in the thick of it.  My unit worked to get suspicious vehicles towed and isolated.  As the days wore on orange cones were put up to keep cars away from important buildings.  As the months went by cement barriers were placed so that vehicles could not park right next to the door of vital buildings.  It would take a year or two to change the landscape and our rethinking of security.

It may sound simple or not important, but it was.  Later, we received a commendation from President Bush.  Every officer on duty and every patrol unit member who took part received a 9/11 duty medal.  

Our team had been late getting to the towers and were spared.  They were back home in Charlotte by Thursday.  Safe.  We were thankful, so very thankful.

Security became a priority.  We had focus groups and high level discussions that changed things.  Most of these measures are still in place and has actually become a part of the fabric of normalcy.  Yet we are still very vulnerable.  Covid is a worse attack.  Perhaps it wasn’t intentional as 9/11 surely was.  Later I stood at Ground Zero.  The souls of those lost could be felt, the view of destruction was sobering.  We said “Never again”.  We also said “United we Stand, Divided we Fall”.  We’ve forgotten that lesson.

Prayers for the survivors, family and everyone involved that terrible day.  We must continue telling the stories so that we don’t forget.

Who Knew?

 To me this isn’t politics.  It’s ineptness.  POTUS simply isn’t equipped to be the leader of our nation.  I just listened to his interview with Bob Woodward in February.  It doesn’t really matter when it was it’s the content that is disturbing.  

He admits that COVID is much deadlier and much more contagious than the seasonal flu.   At that point in time we, the citizens, thought it would be contained in China.

I suspect that there was a huge communication disconnect.  However, for the President to ‘know’ what he did and seemingly didn’t act quickly.  I also believe that COVID was with us in late 2019.  That can’t be attributed to POTUS, it just is.

The President literally said that COVID is airborne and can be transmitted by just breathing.  This was in February.

Hindsight is always 20/20.  Back seat observers always believe that things could have been done better.

We are here now.   It appears that antibodies do not last past 6 weeks or so with people who have had it.  That means that we can never really know how many people actually had COVID.  

My physicians are sure that I had it in March.  I didn’t qualify for one of the 250 tests available in NC because I hadn’t been to China.  Never mind that I had been at a hotel where international flight crews were being housed, and a bluegrass festival was being held where people had hacking dry coughs, and perhaps most importantly - I’m at high risk.  

We need access to testing in a smart and common sense way.  Not just because somebody wants one.  Rather, those who have been exposed or are showing symptoms.

It’s also clear now that folks can get it more than once.  Speaking from experience this may be relapse rather than reinfection.  It doesn’t really matter - therapeutics just aren’t in place.  We don’t know how to treat the virus.  We have some clues, but nothing definitive.

So - that means that I and people like me must self-isolate and use extreme precautions when going out on a limited basis.  It means that unless the citizens of this country come together and wear masks, stay at a 6-8’ distance from others, follow the executive orders on limitations of gatherings, hyper-cleanliness, and in general understand the seriousness of our situation then we are sentenced to pay a very high price.

We have seen violence beyond our imagination in this nation.  I remember as a teenager seeing reports of civil terrorists killing innocent people in other countries and being thankful that it wasn’t happening here.  It is happening here.  I haven’t done the research but it does seem that violence has had a quantum leap in the past few years.

Our kids have to be taught remotely for much of the country.  Parents have had to step up in a way they never could have imagined.  Education on all levels will be stalled.  There just isn’t any way from an Educator’s point of view that remote learning crafted within just weeks before the beginning of school can possibly compete with the same material that was being taught a year ago in person.

I don’t want government to be in our personal business anymore than they already are.  However it is abundantly clear to those who will open their hearts and minds that this administration isn’t working.  There are over 20,000 verifiable lies said publicly and it continues every day it seems like.

The dissenters want to believe that it’s all a hoax.  I even have family that believe that it’s all untrue and actually believe that the Clinton’s and the Democratic party created this plague.  Their reasoning is that it’s all meant to defeat Trump.  The entire world has been effected.  How does this point to a conspiracy?  

This is a virus that was being studied in Wuhan University.  Reports are that patient zero got it from eating a bat.  Yet authorities steadfastly preach that it can’t be spread through food.

This election is the most important one of my generation.  I suspect that the results will be challenged regardless.  It’s my hope that the winner does so with huge margins so that we, as citizens, can get on with living.

The Story of Ruby Lee

 RUBY LEE

Gosh I feel so bad tonight for her.  She was weird, aggravating, loud, pale (very pale), and she talked constantly.  Her Father was my Grandfather’s brother.  He was married to Annie.

I never knew why Ruby Lee was like she was.  I really hated it when she came to visit and I may have even hated it worse when we went to go see them.

One birthday we were there and had planned to stay the night.  Aunt Annie threw me some silky pajamas from her bottom drawer and said “Here - Happy Birthday”

The thing about a gift is that unless it’s freely given with an expectation of love and gratitude it becomes a debt.

One time, in the dead of winter, my brother and I were put in the back of the open work truck with one blanket.  Off we went to Troy to see June, Annie and Ruby Lee.  It was freezing.  We survived - obviously.

I’ve thanked Mom for my life several times today.  Somehow Ruby Lee came up in our conversation.

She had been a twin.

Aunt Annie had poured Red Devil Lye down the throat of the other baby.

I can just visualize it, and I feel it, and I’m sure I’ll have nightmares about it.

I can’t imagine anyone, let alone a Mother, doing that to a precious gift from God.

I was making very good money when Uncle June died and so I gave Aunt Annie $500.  I was glad that I could do it.  Strangely I don’t remember any emotion from her or Ruby Lee.I remember my Grandad crying, and I remember my Grandmother putting her differences with him aside for this event.

Many years later Ruby Lee signed over the family farm to Mom and Mom did her best to ‘take care of her”.  Eventually she had to have her committed.

I imagine that Ruby Lee had been told about her twin her whole life.  I suspect that her Mother threatened her with Lye down her throat if she misbehaved. 

Where does such evil come from?

Satan.  He never ever had any intention of having us enjoy our lives.  He planned all along to make us slaves to his dark, evil and terrible way.  Satan spares no one.  He attempts to lead everyone away from the path of light and the destination of our return to live with our loving Heavenly Parents.

‘Judge not lest ye be judged”

I’ve pretty much lived my life non-judgemental.  Now I understand the deep and abiding reason for doing so.  Aunt Annie was likely mentally unwell.  She and June had lived through the depression and didn’t know if Grandad would come back from WWII alive or if at all.

I can just imagine your head shaking like a bobble-head doll.  My undergraduate degree is in Psychology.  There is something called ‘Stockholm Syndrome’.  It’s where prisoners are seemingly favored and then invited to treat the other prisoners as bad as, if not worse than the ‘real’ guards.  In WWII they were called the ‘Kapos’

After WWII a lot of study was done on this.  Turns out that we all have within us the innate ability to do great harm to others.  I’m sure this is a contamination of satan.

How then do we NOT corporate with captors?  What does it take?  Would you be strong enough?  Would I be strong enough?  When do we start resisting?  How do we teach others?  In what ways will we share this with our children, grandchildren and great-grandchildren?

We do so by making up our mind right now.   This very second.  We build our love for others by appreciating what they do, where they have been and empathizing with their pain.  We get strong by imagining how it would feel to have Lye thrown down your throat.  We stand up for others no matter the cost to our earthly bodies.  We share our pearls and even protect the swine when necessary.  We teach others by telling the stories and showing the pictures of what was.

God have mercy on Aunt Annie.  I pray for her forgiveness and redemption.  Nobody is beyond redemption and God’s overwhelming love.  Not Hitler.  Not Mussolini.  Not the Inquisitors.  Not those who lit the straw to burn the ‘witches’.  Not the Romans who nailed Christ to the Cross.  Not Cain.  Not the Gladiators.  Not the riflemen.  Not the bomb makers.  Not the bullet makers. Not those that claimed to OWN others.  Not the thieves.  Not the drunk driver.  Not the drunk doctor.  Not bullies.  Not those who find laughter at the suffering of others. 

There are way to many people that history has made redemption necessary.

One last thought - “Did Aunt Annie fall down in the presence of her child?  Did she sing Hallelujah?  Was she able to speak at all?”

JUDGE NOT, LEST YE BE JUDGED.

1958

 1958.  I’ve heard the stories so often.  A group of high school kids with a future brighter than they could comprehend.  They had come from Derita, Bethune and Long Creek.  I’ve been to many of their reunions. After leaving the OBX Mom floundered a bit, however my brother and I ended up at that same school.  Getting to know and making lifelong friendships with her lifelong friends.  I found the love of my life there too.  We were just too dumb to realize it and went our separate ways a few years after graduation.  It was a decision that I regret hourly.  He is forever on my mind.  The kiss that he gave me the last time I saw him and what he said to me “I love you.  I respect you.”. I had no idea that would be the last.

My Mom was an only child and was spoiled by all accounts.  She was born in 1940.  Wen war broke out it is said that my Grandmother ‘had’ my Grandfather called up for service.  My Mom and Grandma went with him as he trained in Texas.  Grandma made sandwiches for the soldiers.  When he ‘shipped out’ they moved to Charlotte.  But before I tell you more about that I want to tell you about Grandad.

I have a minor in German.  All of my classes were under the instruction of Frau Chernack.  She proudly showed off her Auswitz tattoo.  She wasn’t afraid to help us to understand what living it was like.  I remember that she said that she survived by using dirt to put pigment on her skin so that she would look healthier than she likely was and she also said “I survived by doing what a young girl must do”.  She told us stories of the stench of the crematories, the sorting of the clothing and valuables of those jews who were slaughtered.  They were sent into the gas room naked so as to keep them calm.  They had been told they would be taking a shower.  When their spirits had left, Frau Chernack told of how they were forced to drag the bodies to deep trenches where they were tossed without ceremony.  No prayers for their souls.  No kinfolk to hug and hold tight.  No trinkets to remember them by.  But these victims did give something to Frau Chernack and others - the relentless desire to survive, thrive and then tell everyone what the Nazi regime had done.  We learned about the first ‘work’ camp to be liberated by the Americans.

I had asked Grandad several times to tell me of his experiences in the war.  He refused and in fact had asked that I never bring it up again.  So I didn’t.  One day I got an unexpected phone call.  It was Grandad telling me to come right away because he decided that he wanted to tell me about the war.  His voice was shaky and his eyes tested up more than once.  He told me about being in a transport boat.  He had been assigned as the XO of a General.  Grandad was standing beside the General when he was shot dead.  My grandfather could have stayed onboard and escorted the body all the way home, but he didn’t.  Being unattached and alone he stormed the beach as a solitary prime target for the defense.  He made it through and over the dune line where he followed a group of soldiers.  This was the reason for his first Bronze Star.

I don’t know what his second Bronze Star was for - sadly, however I do know what the third one was for.  He was one of the American liberators of that first work camp.  He couldn’t hold back the tears when he told me about that.  He couldn’t understand how people could be so evil and how people could treat others with such obvious disdain for human life and the sanctity that God has given every souls having this earthly experience.  He spoke of the smell.  He said that many of the prisoners had eyes that was like looking into the depth of a cave never before explored.  He told how the Nazis had left so fast that their attempts to cover up what they had done were left unfinished.  The survivors were wearing rags hanging off bones upon which skin was draped.  Grandad looked at the floor as he told me about this.  I’ll never forget the sound of him clearing his throat, the sight of him clenching his teeth as he shook his head.

That’s what war is - the wholesale torture and mistreatment of our brothers and sisters. 

When Grandad had returned to the states and joined my Grandma and Mom they lived in a a tiny RV.  Mom has told me all kinds of stories about that small trailer park near downtown Charlotte including playing in a church yard.  The building was built from large stones and it had a rod iron fence around it.  She also met Faye.  Faye and my Mom have been inseparable since those days.  They have remained the closest of friends and still talk several times a week.  Grandma and her sister Ruby had worked at the munitions factory and often told of writing messages to Grandad just in case he got the munitions that they had worked on.

The Military Detachment at his funeral gave a flag to my Mom and one to her younger brother.  I’ve never  ever heard of that.  This is a testament to his amazing service.

Mom graduated in 1958 from North Mecklenburg High School.  She was a model and had some professional dancing on her resume too.  That should not come as any surprise to those that know her.  She met my Father and they got married.  Their first child died at birth.  My dad took care of the body and my Mother said she was never given the opportunity to see him.  They had to name the baby so that a death certificate could be issued.  They chose Robert Angel Bradley.  The first name of their Fathers.

The next baby was born in 1961.  He lived, but tore my Mom up terribly.  She and Tim (Truman Mack Bradley, Jr.) had to stay in the hospital three months.

It’s kind of amazing to think that she was healed enough to then get pregnant with me.  She went into labor early while she, my Grandma and Tim were out to lunch.  She thought she was having contractions but wanted to keep it a secret.  I suppose she just wanted to enjoy the time.  When her water broke my Grandma took over and got her to the hospital.  They were afraid for her to deliver naturally so they did a C-section cutting my ear in the process.  We were in the hospital for a month and I weighed 5lbs 3 ounces.  Mom says that it was like holding a bag of sugar.  I’m sure my Dad was afraid for Mom and I both.  

We’ve been through a lot these past 57 years (I’m writing this at 1:02am on my birthday some 11 hours before I turn 58).  One thing I could always count on was my Mom.  She’s always been there to hold my hand, to encourage me, to discipline me when needed, to help make decisions and so many other things.  She has been proud of me too.  When I made the Ice Capades she had an autograph party at Davises (the little juke joint bar she worked at).  I was embarrassed but I complied.  When I went to get my medical clearance from the OB-GYN he refused me because I couldn’t stop bleeding.  He told me “You have to choose now at age 19 do you want to skate, or do you one day want a chance of having a child?”  i chose my daughter who would come along 10 years later and in whom I couldn’t be more proud and so very thankful for.

There have been so many challenges in these 57 years.  There has also been amazing opportunities.  One achievement after another not the least of which is skill in writing.  The one theme that has woven itself throughout my life is the absolute knowing that ‘I can’.  This is because of my Mom.  She never doubted anything that I undertook.  

So as I face the next year of my life I do so with appreciation for all of those that have gone before me.  Feeling them holding me up when I’m weak, pushing me forward when I want to quit and praying when I’m unable to.  Offering inspiration as I make decisions.  Showing me how to thrive in the face of adversity.  How to apply myself to learn and keep learning.  How to show charity when the recipients are the least deserving.  How to believe in tomorrow and expect the best from humanity.  How to climb over the piles of disappointment to get to the ‘what’s next’.  To appreciate nature and share it with others and to actually share what I have with anyone in need.  She also taught me to be positive regardless of the circumstances because dawn always comes and a rainbow is a promise of a better future and a certainty of a loving Heavenly Father.  

Help somebody if you can.  Hold out your hand when it’s needed.  Remind people of what America is when their memories want to forget.  Give a hungry person food.  Offer a coat to someone who is cold.  Teach our children so that there is a chance that history won’t indeed repeat itself.

Live or Die?

 I had to become comfortable with living after my ‘death’.  Yes, I realize that I’m alive and this is a hook of inquisition that I hope will keep you reading.

In 1994 I was on top of my game.  I was the fifth highest mortgage loan originator for the third largest bank in the nation.  I had worked hard, really , really hard.  It often took nearly 7/24 attention.  I started trading Sunday stillness and sanctity to support a REALTOR in their open house endeavors.  Back in those days everyone attended the infamous Tuesday morning sales meetings and then we would go off to see everyone’s new listings.  I got the bright idea of providing lunch at a new listing every single week.

It worked.  I would have so many people I sometimes ran out of food.

That Tuesday I had food left over.  I stopped by my Great Aunt’s house to leave some for them.  They weren’t home.  So I headed home for a well deserved rest.

it happened so fast.  

Our eyes locked.

The paleness of shock of certainty hit us both instantaneously.

Then there was a crash.

I knew that I had to hold the car.

She hit me so hard that the passenger side door handle was resting over the hand brake.

I was vaguely aware that she had started spinning.  I later learned that she was a 16 year old driver who had wrecked her car the day before and her Father, a successful dentist, bought her another car the night before.  She had floored the gas rather than the brake.

The Ford emblem was laying nearly in my lap.

Blinding, nearly indescribable pain shot through my body.  It was hard to breath.  It was hard to see.  It was nearly impossible to move.

And so began my death.

I fought to keep my ‘succesfull’ life.  I did everything I was asked to.  All the therapy.  All the tests.  All the surgeries.  All the modalities.  God had other plans.  Looking back I can now see his wisdom at work.

I had a lot of help because I was a patient at the Rehabilitation Hospital of Carolinas Medical Center.  it took three years of cognitive rehabilitation to relearn to read and comprehend on an 8th grade level.  That was, initially, a huge nuclear bomb attack to my ego.  Then I realized the genius of it.  God had other plans.  

We looked for two years for what my cognitive strengths were that remained.  I was sent to a college Economics class, one of the very few courses that I hadn’t had.  I absolutely couldn’t do it.  I couldn’t comprehend.  I couldn’t remember.  I simply couldn’t LEARN.  I cried.  I rebelled.  I lived within a fog of disbelief.  My Mom told me to get my education because it was something nobody could take away from me.

Really ???????????

That prophetic statement I think is what kept me trying.  My Mom was always truthful with me, sometimes even brutally so.  She laughed when I went to her work after my first Calculus test at UNCC.  I was crying uncontrollably because I had “FAILED” first test.  I had made a 96.  Yes a NINETY SIX.

I had fractures all over my body.  The inner fascia  was ripped - it felt like what I could imagine a chicken could feel as you pull their skin off the meat.  it hurt.  It really, really hurt.  My chest was black.  Every movement sent waves and currents of pain through every cell in my body.

My synaptic  dendritic connection seemed to be a wiring that allowed the ripples of pain to intensify.

I damaged three lumbar discs and two cervical discs.

Perhaps the ‘worst’ injury was the brain injury - or to be accurate the two brain injuries.   I was determined to reclaim everything.  So I started a two year Associates program in Children’s Writing, which then led to my PhD in Journalism.  Writing is just easy for me.  Words just flow.  I’m thankful.

I was so sick for so many years.  They couldn’t figure out why and just assumed it was the brain injuries.  I took SEVEN years for them to do exploratory abdominal surgery - and it was a friend of mine who finally agreed to do it.  My ribs had punctured my gall bladder and it was stone hard.  When I woke up in recovery I immediately knew that they had found the problem because i felt SO MUCH BETTER - imagine that, feeling better after anesthesia than before anesthesia.

MS was triggered by the trauma and while I’m mostly in remission I’m still numb on my left side sort of like a novocain shot that is almost worn off.  At first I had to use a wheelchair.  then I went to a power scooter and eventually a walker with a seat.  So the fact that I can now ride a bike is pretty awesome to me.

But all of this was to get to this next part.  MIGRAINES.  OMG.  they are awful.  I thought surely it was my brain injuries  causing flashing lights, blinding pain and darkness to come over my eyes.  In order to fully understand I must tell you about the day the adhesion was broken.

i was in the therapy room and two folks were working on my broken body.  The axis and atlas was dislocated but pulled back I suppose by the tendons.  The therapy that particular hour was to work on getting as much range of motion for my neck as possible.  Suddenly there was an audible ‘ripping’.  I have NEVER felt pain like I did in that moment.  I absolutely couldn’t talk.  My jaws wouldn’t work.  But I did cry - very telling because I was kind of legendary for not crying no matter what they did to me.  There is absolutely no way I would even begin the thought of wanting even my worst enemy to even experience to a tiny level.

I was quickly surrounded by 6 more therapists.  They were trying to get me to talk, but I couldn’t.  The head therapist got there pretty quick and had them pack my head in crushed ice - it felt good.  She told them to stop trying to get me to speak.  After about 30” of icing I was given a pencil (and you wonder why I hate a regular pencil???????) and a pad of paper where I wrote what I was feeling.

So began my love of yoga.  It was the only thing that could give me a sliver of relief.  I rarely miss a day.  I also have a special pillow - and my Mom bought one for my Grandmother too.  I have hers ready for when I must give up the one I’ve used for so long.

It took the trauma neurologist five years, FIVE YEARS, to come up with a medication cocktail that allowed the headache to live just under the surface.  I even went into minor liver failure once because of the mix of medications that I was asked to try.  I’ve submitted to numerous nerve block injections.  I RARELY ask for that anymore.  

that’s why I was excited to learn about the DAITH piercing.  Yes - I had it done ten days ago.  I bled profusely for 9 straight hours.  I started to go to the ER, then it occurred to me to look at the ingredients in Excedrin Migraine.  325mg of Aspirin.  So I prayed, and I held ice on my ear and it finally stopped.  It hurt like HELL (and I usually don’t cuss) but it was so very WORTH it.  Mom hasn’t said anything, but I know intuitively that she doesn’t approve.  Good thing she wasn’t here to see the bleeding LOL.

I think the reason I was compelled to write this was to say this - walk a mile in someone else’s skin before you judge them.  We all have things happening that we don’t talk about.  We all have disappointments and challenges.  The best course is to do all we can to not focus on these things but rather accentuate the positive.

So - if you see my face twitching, don’t worry it’s just the nerves misbehaving from the injuries.  If you see me kneading my neck - don’t worry I’m just trying to loosen it up.  If you hear my neck pop - don’t worry it’s normal.

Be careful what you give to your children.  The young driver lost her license for ten years.  Was it enough?  I hope so.  I hope she found a way to make it ‘worth’ it.  Oh, I just realized I didn’t tell you that because she had floored the gas instead of the brake she went into a spin.  that’s how she hit me twice and she landed in a deep ditch which is the only thing that stopped her car.

Often our decisions impact others adversely.  Will you think of all that I deal with every second of every hour of every day and every night before you judge someone?  I would consider it a favor.

respectfully requested by Soaring Eagle Heart.

Appointment?

I didn’t realize that I had missed a doctor’s appointment.  When a refill request was denied I called their office.  Turns out that I missed my six month appointment.  This is not like me.  Going into my normal self-critiquing I struggled to figure out how it could have happened.  

After being a multiple trauma survivor with injuries and fractures from my head to my toes I live in constant pain.  I’m use to it, but it can overshadow things that life demands.  I also suffered two injuries to my brain.  I worked hard in cognitive rehabilitation to recover what I could.  When life is chaotic I don’t have enough space in my brain to process everything.

So I analyzed the past year and it’s cumulative effect on my life.

First of all, my teaching year was the most challenging I’ve ever had.  it demanded more than I could actually give.  Classes were over by mid-June.  I went into my office on June 17 only to find that the staff had filled it with boxes, furniture, etc.....  Apparently there was a room that was having maintenance and somehow my office was the prime storage area rather than any of the other clear spaces such as two conference rooms that were rarely used just across from my office.  I had wanted to start my normal updating of curriculum because excellence is my hallmark.  I left.  It was an added problem on top of dozens of other issues I had through the academic year.  I would have met with the Dean and apprised him of the impact on me and the curriculum development.  Fate had other plans.

The very next day I got a call that I could have never have imagined.  My youngest niece had tried heroin for the first time.  It killed her and the five other kids using the same batch.  Those five were brought back and reports are that they walked out of the ER a couple of hours later.  They couldn’t revive her.  After two days she was determined to be brain dead.  Her parents chose to donate her organs.  This began a week of lining up recipients while her body was kept alive.  She saved five lives.  

Having gone through a domestic violence divorce it had been my habit to check up on my Ex every few months.  When I emerged from the fog of my nieces death I did my check up on him.  He had died ten days before my niece.  I cried all night.  I grieved the man I had married and the 16 year marriage that we had which was not the same as what I divorced.  It had been a release of pent up dread and the toll having to be constantly aware.  He had misbehaved terribly during the divorce including cutting the brake lines on my car.  I told my Mom when she woke up and together we called my daughter.  The phone went silent then my daughter said “I’m ok.  Really, really ok”

After some research it was discovered that he had been in a downward spiral of dementia for seven years.  He was only 63 when he died.  Nobody claimed the body.  He was cremated and after ten days of waiting a ‘friend’ picked up the ashes and scattered them.  His obituary was one line and not one person had written on his tribute wall.   I began the process of helping my daughter settle his estate which is on-going as I write this.

A few weeks later I got an email from the college saying that I had to move out of my office because I would be sharing it with several other people.  It was the last straw.  I resigned.  Teaching had been the focus of my life for so long that I lost my identity.

While this was happening I was also having problems with the retail space that I had rented.  The owner where I sublet was closed more than they were open.  I was invited into a different business space and so I moved my ‘booth’.  While most people would see this as a minor inconvenience my pain level made it yet another challenge to be endured.

Then came Hurricane Dorian.  Our house was built to withstand these storms however we lost 27 trees.  Not one hit the house but it left my Mom and I marooned in the house because we couldn’t get our cars out of the garage.  Eventually I got some help from a dear friend and the heavy trees were dragged to the road for county pickup using his tractor. 

My daughter turned 30 in November.  I was disappointed that I couldn’t be with her so I planned a surprise party for her which turned out great.  I was able to dial in using messenger as her friends executed my plan.  I did goody bags (adult style with some of my handmade goodies), sent party decorations and of course gifts.  This planning also took up space in my mind, but it was so worth it.  The other teachers told her that their own Mother’s would be judged in the future by my virtual surprise party.

Then in December I was sick.  Really, really sick.  I couldn’t get warm, the fatigue was crippling,  The dry violent coughing cracked my ribs.

January saw my going through all of the steps to get my Mother ready for cataract removal on both eyes.  Since we live on an island getting her to the surgeon in Norfolk was quite the challenge.  She had a consultation.  Then we went for her 4 hour pre-op imaging and testing.  Then we went for the first surgery.  It went well, but she was very nervous to the point that they had me with her until the actual incision was made.  We had to stay in Norfolk for a couple of days and that meant navigating the traffic on busy city streets that I am in no way familiar with.

That was followed by three weeks of post-op care including a strict eye-drop regimen and being hyper-focused on her to keep her from doing things she wasn’t suppose to do like cleaning the house and not driving.  We went back to Norfolk for the second surgery.  The hotel where we stayed was having a couple of big events.  They had a blood drive going on and it was the first night of the bluegrass festival.  Of course I thought this was grand.  I got Mom settled in our room and went down to hear music, talk about music interests with the attendees and general just have a good time.

There were a lot of people coughing and I didn’t think anything about it.  The next day we headed back to our island home and stopped at a Cracker Barrel for a good meal before leaving Virginia.  After we were seated a man at the table next to ours got up to leave.  He began coughing deeply and uncontrollable.  I got Mom home and we added on the second eye to our regimen.

Three days later I got very, very, very sick.  Deep unproductive cough, a tiredness that is beyond anything I’ve ever experienced, difficulty getting enough air, a fever of 104, chills, no desire for food or anything to drink, no sense of taste and I couldn’t smell anything.  I was miserable for three weeks.  Through the fog I was vaguely aware that a national lock down had taken place and that COVID had been determined to be a pandemic.  It would take two months for me to feel ‘normal’ again.  But my brain remained foggy.

When I was feeling better I called one of my friends from the bluegrass festival.  He had been sick too, and so had dozens of others at the festival.  He was the only one I knew, but he knew many of the people in attendance.  When I was so sick I contacted urgent care and suspected that I had COVID.  There were only 240 tests available in NC.  I was told that since I hadn’t been to China I didn’t qualify to have one of those tests.  I did take a Z-Pack, used steroid inhalers and tried to drink hot liquids.  There were days and nights where I forced every breath in and out.

My friend and the others attending the festival had surmised that it was likely COVID.  This hotel was where many airline employees stayed.  We saw them coming in with their uniforms.

Mother nature decided I needed an even taller stacked challenge.  I was in the garage unpacking my Mom’s SUV when I got hit with a wave.  We live a mile from the water.  This was accompanied by an awful sound I have never heard before.  I got the garage door down just before the power went out.  I was soaked from head to toe.  It was all over in less than one minute.  It was a water spout.  It had traveled across the island from the water.  It tore more trees and left our roof damaged.  My Mom was upset and I was just shocked that this could happen.

So now at the end of July I realize that my commitments had been left unanswered and my brain has no recollection of even having a doctor’s appointment.  Positivity teachers say to transcend your circumstances.  I think I do, but I can’t always make my brain cooperate.  I think perhaps anyone would have a hard time dealing with this past year.  I think anyone’s mind would be boggled.  That thought seems to want to diminish the fact that I am a brain injury survivor. That comes with a whole lot of accommodations and modalities that work in ‘normal’ times.  This past year was abnormal to the extreme.

Mom’s eyes are ok.  My EX’s estate is still in probate.  The college didn’t even contact me about remote teaching (my curriculum was already digitized and it would have been logical).  The roof has a patch waiting our turn for the roofers.  A tree also went through the wall into my daughter’s bathroom.  It has a patch also and the tile just awaits replacement again once it is our turn.

Now we may have a tropical storm or hurricane come through next week.  I know challenges make you stronger, but it would be nice for things to level out allowing me to have some peace and quite and perhaps even keep my commitments.  There may even be enough pain tolerance, and space in my mind to have a little fun.  Because I’m at high risk for COVID my doctor has asked me to stay home as much as possible.  I go out every two weeks to get the mail.  He is also sure that the March illness was COVID and maybe even the December illness.  A person can get it multiple times and so I isolate which has it’s own set of problems.

We’ve all seen positivity quotes that say something like “Don’t judge a person until you have walked a mile in their shoes”.  I hate being on the receiving end of that advice, but nonetheless it is so very true.

Can a Hand Hear?

Can a hand hear like an ear?

We’ve probably all had the experience of being a part of a team.  We learned that as long as everyone did their job, took advantage of opportunities, and kept their eyes on the goals for the whole everyone felt actualized.  Once we feel this we want more of it.  In many ways it feeds our ego, but it also can serve to put the ego in the background as we focus on the good of the whole.

We’ve all probably also given our very best to a team only to find that each member had a different goal in mind and gravitated towards that rather than the task of the whole.  The team goal is rarely accomplished in this level of dysfunction and lack of pulling together.  It’s an old saying, but it speaks raw truth “A chain is only as strong as it’s weakest link”.

Consider for a moment though if a weak link can be identified the strong links can form a connection bypassing the weak link.  Sometimes a weak link is repurposed, but sometimes it’s discarded to be absorbed back into the earth for another use as the decades wear on.  It can be a part of a new team.  Maybe it will help nourish the ground to help make it fertile thus increasing the yield of a crop that then helps others.  It’s life is absorbed too into the plant and lives on as a part of the whole it becomes.

The cycle of life continues into eternity.

We too are a part of a team.  A part of the whole.  Within us resides a bit of our Heavenly Father.  God has a purpose for us.  A reason that we live.  A goal that will help make the team whole.  A calling that we are uniquely meant to fulfill.  

Have you ever tried going up a hot metal slide?  It’s hard.  You’re hands and knees burn and it isn’t worth it to get to the top only to slide down again.  How much the better had we used the ladder that was there just for this use?  

Have you ever tried to hear with your hand?  If you’re attentive you can feel the rhythms of music and somehow sense it deeper.  Tactility increases the enjoyment of the experience.  Your ‘team’ enjoys the results of every part functioning as it ought.

Have you ever tried to write with your ear?  I must confess that I’ve never even heard of anyone doing this.  It’s not meant for writing, it’s meant to wear earrings and hearing of course.  If we stick a pencil in our ear we won’t be able to hear well and if we push it in further we could permanently damage the ability of the ear to do it’s job.

Take a spoon.  Look at it with the concave side facing you.  What do you see?

Now turn the spoon over and look at your reflection again on the convex side.  What happened?

Perhaps if we focused outward rather than inward we would find our lives somehow were more productive, we might find more peace and happiness, less stress and anxiety would be lessened and the love we show forth also is reflected back feeding the heart of our very selves.

See it’s not about finding what your ear is meant to do, but rather allowing the ear to show you what it was created for.

A Different Memorial Day

Different Memorial Day

NOTE - my IPad is still misbehaving, please excuse the typography issues.

Memorial Day weekend is here.  The weather has been cool, now it’s warming up.  Normally the Lost Colony would be opening.  My church would host 700-900 young single adults in an annual event bringing young people from all over the nation here on the Outer Banks.  The season would be officially opened here and income opportunities would begin to abound for a few months.  

I grew up splitting time between here and Charlotte.  While in Charlotte racing was a family business.  The Jarrettts are family and so are the Allisons.  I can vividly remember the young men coming in for huge Sunday afternoon suppers after they had done some racing event.  My Grandparents are buried next to Ned Jarretts parents.  The last time I saw him was at one of my Grandmothers funerals.  I also hung out with Elmo Langley who was a good friend of my Moms.  One Uncle, who had dipped a little into NASCAR racing, would rent a huge U-Haul, load all of us cousins up, park it in the paddock and we would hang out all day for the big Memorial Day race in Charlotte.

When Mom met Pop I was 19.  The company he worked for was one of the major sponsors and so we had REALLY good seats every year.  We would go to the time trials and the minor races all before the main event.  Mom and Pop’s ‘little’ house was about two Miles from the Speedway.

It is sad that we haven’t hosted the cast and Crew for The Lost Colony.  There are other events that have been happening for decades.  A locals meet and greet covered dish - I posted recently about this when I told the story of Mom’s strawberry cake.  As a child when we would go to this covered dish get-together I looked forward to strawberry cake.  Somehow I didn’t know until about a year ago that it was Mom who was making it.  I just knew we only had it once a year.  The strawberries came from Aunt Isabel’s patch and they were awesome, juicy, delicious.  Being alumni of the show we would also enjoy a lot of interaction with the current cast and Crew, and often Chip in where we could when there was a need.  Waterside Theatre has not been dark since WWII.  It seats around 1,500 people and there really was no choice about cancelling this season.  With the social distancing parameters, the remote finishing of college for these young people, and not being able to house them in the dormatories safely were all a factor.  It had to be done.  2021 will show a Return and be better than ever.

Also, I usually would soon get a visit from my Daughter and maybe even my Grandaughter and Son-inlaw.  I’ve asked her to wait a few weeks to give us some more time to see how this thing will spread with reopening.  I’m severely immunosurpressed and so am among the group that our State and County have encouraged to stay in and away from people.  In a way this reopening is great, it means that I can go to my usual private spots and everyone else will be at work or over at the Ocean.  but I have no problem asking folks to stay 6-10’ away and having a mask at the ready.  I’m looking forward to riding my Bike again.  We have a Bike Trail close by my house and it is a balm to my soul.

Meanwhile I also remember when Jaws came out.  It was about a small Seaside town that expected an onslaught of visitors for the Memorial Day opening to the season.  The big shark was attacking people and things got bad quickly.  Silly teenagers that we were, we really had to think twice about going into the Water that year.

So we have had an interuption to our ‘normal’ lives.  We likly will see fallout from this extremely contagious virus for another Ten months or so.  I applaud folks for following the stay at home orders. The numbers do not show the whole story.  It is a fact that with less than 10% of the population being tested we don’t have enough data.  There is no doubt in my mind that many personal friends of mine had it.  I know for a fact they were denied tests because they hadn’t been to China or they couldn’t trace a contact with an infected person.   The overwhelming vast majority get over it and move on.  We don’t know how our immunity might generate Protection yet.  The pause has hopefully allowed our Healthcare system to catch up with modalities, ventilators, PPE, and SOP.  

Some of you don’t know and have not had an occassion to notice that all of this is just a hyper-vigilant behaivor pattern to what Auto-immune patients do all the time.  For the next year or so I will be continuing measures to stay well.  

I had plans for this summer which got cancelled.  I no longer have a retail space and I can’t offer Public workshops for My Intent like I wanted to.  It’s OK.  2021 will be here soon enough, and I personally think it will be a boom for us.  I have a thriving website and this has been the direction that deep down I knew was the right way for me.  I have quite the daunting task of getting things up from the first level and organized and stored for next year.  I can’t really have help right now because it’s stuff I need to do so that I know where my stock is.  Look for specials on goods before I put them on the online store.

AmeriCANS have proven over and over again that we are strong together and United we stand.  I’m hoping to return to more positivity as I launch digital opportunities that I’ve been working on for months.  We are all not going to agree.  Once thing is for sure though, our daily lives have changed.  The way we educate our children and young adults has changed.  The Earth has had a wonderful time of Healing and regeneration.  I’ve never seen LA’s Water so Blue.  Within a few weeks of the shutdown.  smog lessoned and I understand it’s nearly Non-existant.  Things will be OK and we have to do what we can to protect the at risk population many of whom are elders whose wisdom is vital for the next generation.

I love all of you.  Stay healthy and be safe.

Phronjia