Election Notes

It’s a new day or is it really? Only days since the election has passed. Days since america posed for her family portrait. It’s been days since your uncle, you know the one, stood on his soap box and told the world all the things your grandma has been trying to keep as family business.

Many of you are outraged for various reasons. Some of you can’t believe that your family members put that uncle in office airing the nation’s, your family’s, dirty laundry.

We have been here before. No, actually we have lived here all of our life while living in America – whether we living black or brown in America, living in but not born in America, queer in America, a woman in America or heck any combination of these in America.You see, us, over here, who you want to be the allies to…this has been our reality. Maybe not to the extreme that this could possibly morph into but still what you are feeling now we have been living.

But now that our reality is also quite possibly your reality you feel outraged. Now that our reality has crept up and possibly infringed on the reality of someone you hold near and dear you feel the need to march, to shout, to talk, to strategize, to protest except you don’t know where to start, what to say or how to begin. Now that the reality, the real possibility, that history may repeat itself you are passing out safety pins. But guess what? Those of us who have lived here on the edge of your reality, screaming “our lives matter” and fighting for our lives – we don’t need safety pins to identify who is safe because unlike you we can look at each other and know which side of the wall your uncle would place us.

My suggestion is for you, white, straight, privileged, appalled America, is to start at your tree. Start with your roots pulling the weeds that you have left to grow strong and flourish, calling out the skunk causing all of the stink, educating your uneducated and reeducating your misinformed. Don’t avoid them like the plague get in there with your mask on, be the antibiotic with the realization that you can’t save them all and start inoculating your youth because they will be part of the future but rest assured we are, as well, preparing our descendents to be the leaders of the world.

Now is the time for us, those of us who have lived under oppression, systemic isms or the like to take the lead, to corral the newly enlisted troops and fight the fight we have been waiting but wanting to fight. It’s time to use their safety pin driven empathy to be the moles and the push we have been lacking. Now is the time to use them as the force behind our united punch.

Again

My head is spinning and I feel sick. Why didn’t stay right next to her after she asked? “Baby? Baby? Are you okay?”

I have been here before, lifting her up off the ground but each time it happens my heart breaks just a little deeper and I feel like I am losing years off my existence. Honestly, I feel like each time this happens I am losing her, like one of these times she’s not going to answer when I ask if she’s okay and this time is no exception.

Seeing her on the ground face-down, unconscious, unresponsive. She’s taking too long to respond. “Babe, can you hear me?” All I can think is the next time I won’t browse at the end of the aisle, I’ll stand right by her side. The next time…why does there have to be a next time?

She just nods. Why isn’t she talking? Is she trying to gain composure and hold back tears in front of these little girls? Or is she confused and can’t speak? I can’t read her eyes. They are glassy and clear but filled with fog. I have no idea what to say, what to do. “Do you want to sit for minute?”

If this thing that happens had a name. If someone could just label this condition, prescribe some medication or give us a plan of action. I don’t know what to do. I try to remain calm. What should I do? I always suggest, no push for going to the hospital. I know that when I do I usually face resistance, an argument, a debate if you will about the point of going. Why should she go if the never have an answer? Why should she go if the only thing they are going to say is to not drive? I understand her frustration but how else do we break this cycle? “Come on, let’s go.”

I see her frustration at the lack of concern by the emergency room staff. I see the frustration build to anger because she feels like she hasn’t been heard. I witness the anger purge in her tears. I keep my anger to myself. I remain silent. I can’t put words to what I’m feeling. I’m frustrated. I’m angry. I’m tired. I’m scared.

I want answers just as much as she does. I’ve listened to all the doctors say “I have no idea. It’s not a neurological problem. It’s not a cardiac problem. We have ran all the test and everything seems normal.” Let me be the first, or the second, to tell you that falling out at the drop of a hat without warning is not ‘normal’. Picking your wife up off the floor of a major grocery chain is not normal.

Days like these are beyond frustrating, they are life altering. I have grown by leaps and bounds over the past 5 years and it wasn’t easy. I have torn down walls and opened doors. I have focused on goals and planted seeds. I have blended my world into a mixture that I am happy to call home. She has been an accelerant to my growth and for that I love her but it’s not the only reason. After a day like today I want to put life on pause, focus on her because life without her would just be existing.

It’s NOT Father’s Day

I decided to play it low key on Father’s Day giving all those who wanted to wish their husbands, paternal parent or paternal parent fill-in a glorious and happy day for all of the wonderful things they have done in said person’s life. I did not want to rain on anyone’s parade. I can’t say that I love anything about Father’s Day but I also have to admit that I don’t loathe the day. For me, Father’s Day is just that…a day. There are many reasons for my blasé attitude which I did not want to weigh down my social media profile with but today I need a release so feel free to skip this post if you love your dad, step-dad or the father of your children because this post is not one oozing with love but more on the loss of it, if you will.

Sure I have a father, a dad-sometimes, he is really more of a sperm donor. He offered up his DNA, contributed to my genetic make-up and then pretty much left sleeping dogs lay. I can say he was present during the beginning stages of my life from birth until about eleven or twelve when he was still married to my mother but let’s be honest about this relationship. It was one riddled with abuse in every form – verbal, mental and physical. My siblings and I can attest to the fact that by the grace of some divine spiritual being we can continue to breathe the polluted oxygen on this not as green Earth.

I will be the first to admit to harboring some hostility and resentment that continues to brew and fester with each passing moment. Even though this man has threatened to take my life on multiple occasions (and he had the means to do it), I continue to provide him with opportunity after wasted opportunity to redeem himself. One would think that he would pull out all the stops to make the precious and momentous milestones in the lives of his descendants but he continually disappoints without fail.

During my call to my brother, to wish him a Happy Father’s Day, I learned that my father is definitely avoiding my calls intentionally and has the nerve to be angry with me. My brother stated that I ruined his, my dad’s, Christmas vacation plans by having an attitude with him because he did not attend my college graduation which he knew about for six months. Excuse me. My brother went on to say that my father explained that I can “go to hell” because he doesn’t agree with my lifestyle which I’m sure he meant my love because my loving isn’t a lifestyle not something I chose it’s who I am but I digress. My sperm donor also proclaimed that if my brother agreed with me that there was no need for the two of them to talk any longer. My brother, actually stood his ground, told my father to grow up and stop being an ass. My brother said if I love her he doesn’t care because he loves me. My brother went on to let the old man know that I have been there for him always and will remain to always be there for him because you see my brother knows through thick or thin, water or fire, love will stand true and I have love for my brother!

So to all those of you blessed with a genuine father or father figure congratulations you are one of the lucky ones. Please don’t take him for granted. I am not a man hater. I am raising five young men who are going to be FABULOUS fathers because I won’t settle for less. I in fact know lots of men who are great fathers and although I did not give a shout out to any one in particular, I applaud them on the daily because Father’s Day was meant for them. Here’s to today not being Father’s Day!