Worth the sacrifice?

My son M has wanted to go into the Air Force for as long as I can remember. When most of his peers were ogling firefighters or astronauts, he was drawing designs for the next new jet fighter, capable of space alien technology worthy feats. We have never been allowed to walk by any recruitment table or office without stopping in to visit our friends in fatigues and discuss how we were going to get into the AF; in fact, he has the swag to prove it-a water bottle, hat, lanyard, key chain, posters....

In one of our last visits to the recruitment center in a nearby city (it was our trade-off: he'd let me take him to the Indian restaurant if I let him visit the recruitment center next door) the recruitment officer spoke to my eleven year old about the importance of grades and staying out of "trouble." Before we left, he had coached my son to "stay away from drugs, alcohol, and women." And it resonated so strongly that M will gladly tell anyone who asks about school crushes that he is saving himself from dating until he's "at LEAST sixteen."

Last night he returned to my home from his fathers and, while we were doing our catch up snuggle session on the couch, confided that he was having second thoughts about joining the military. "Think about it," he said, softly. "You spend all that time becoming a person and a human, eighteen years at least, and then it could all be snuffed out in a second. Then, what have you lived for? What was the purpose of all of that work and all of those lessons?"

I feel like this is a good time to point out that I have never been a fan of his military related plans. He's my only child, my heart literally beats in his chest. I come from a long line of worriers and have never experienced a father or brother being in the military. The inherent risk of death by serving in the armed forces makes my blood freeze when I think about it.

I have also been gifted with a sensitive, intuitive little boy. From time to time, he entertains becoming a vegetarian so that animals don't have to die to feed him. Death impacts him so profoundly that he often speaks of his great grandfathers-both of whom were lost within two years of each other-with tears in his eyes, and asks to visit their graves. I couldn't fathom the thought of him with another human being in the crosshairs of his weapon, and my son pulling the trigger. If he did, I don't want to imagine what the emotional repercussions would be.

Knowing both of these facts and realizing that parenting is selfless, my stance has always been to be supportive. If he goes into a branch of military service, then I will be the best military mother I can be. I will encourage and support, listen to and hold him whenever I can, even if I personally hate war and violence and detest it's affects on our soldiers. I still pray every night that he'll have a change of heart somewhere in the next seven years, though.

So listening to him speak last night was wonderful! A relief! I was overjoyed (on the inside. I didn't let it show, I swear!)

"Why  go to war and then die, and for what?" M asked.

"It's what you believe is worthy of sacrificing your life," I explained. "If you feel strongly about America and our  country, about advancing our standing in the world from a military perspective, and you feel it so strongly that you're willing to die for this belief, then your life won't be wasted by your death," careful steps, Mama. Care.Ful. Steps.

"There are people who are in danger every day because they feel that what they are doing is worth the risk. Basically, assume that if you are serving people, you're in danger. Firefighters, police officers, doctors and nurses are a few examples. A firefighter will risk their life for another because they believe that life deserves to be protected. Police put their lives on the line every time they respond to a call of a break in, or a robbery in progress. Nurses who worked during times when there were outbreaks of diseases we didn't understand put themselves at risk by helping others because the sickness needed to be contained, and without them, the sick could infect numerous others. Doctors study these diseases often times before realizing what their own risk of exposure is. All of these people are willing to sacrifice because they believe their life would be well spent, even if it means their own death."

"Soldiers are so young, though..." M argued.

"Yep. Many are. And there's many reasons to fight. You fight because your homeland is under attack. You fight because you are being oppressed. You fight because you see genocide and war crimes being committed against those who cannot defend themselves. All of these are good reasons to become a soldier,"

"But I just want to design airplanes..."

"...and that's a great reason to become an engineer." We then spent the next hour discussing career paths and what it would take to get him to a place where he could design planes, and even contract for the government.

Parenting is fun. :)

SCOTUS/Religion Musings....

So... I've been working at a church. It's a great church, a fine church filled with a lot of people who are loving and supportive, forgiving and non-judgemental. It's really very interesting to attend a church where there is a serious lack of judgement. I've never before been a part of a religion that openly welcomes *everyone*. My church happens to be Open and Affirming; or in normal words, we openly welcome members of the LGBT community. And we don't even try to convince them to straighten themselves out! It's all, "Hey! We see you over there! Come over here and hang out with us! It's all good!" and it ends there!

Obviously, with the SCOTUS ruling in favor of gay marriage my church was all, "Huzzah!" and as a denomination large and wide we celebrated this decision. So many rainbows. Very cool.

Last Sunday, however, a Catholic bulletin landed in my hands and I had the experience of reading their thoughts on this ruling. Hint: They're not about it. Here! I'll show you!

In a separate issue: Last week the Supreme Court in Obergefell v. Hodges ruled on two marriage questions: (1)
Does the Fourteenth Amendment require a state to license a marriage between two people of the same sex? and
(2) Does the Fourteenth Amendment require a state to recognize a marriage between two people of the same sex
when their marriage was lawfully licensed and performed out-of-state?
To each question, the Court answered, “Yes.”
In response to this ruling the American Bishops have responded by reminding us that no one and no court
can make what is false true. Marriage by its nature remains the union of one man and one woman—this is a
matter of reason, not just faith. Man and woman were designed by God for each other, and only a man and a
woman can form a union that brings forth children. Changing the definition of civil marriage affects thousands of
laws at once, endangering the religious freedom of institutions and individuals who hold the authentic meaning
of marriage as a union of one man and one woman. The American Bishops call upon all people of good will to
promote and defend the unique meaning of marriage: one man, one woman, for life. We are called to pray for
all the future victims of this ruling, particularly children, while continuing to reach out with love and support to
all people, including those who experience same-sex attraction. All people are loved by God and are called to
love Him.
[and then they followed it with this, which kind of makes me giggle]
Welcome, Sisters of Christ the Light!
Don’t, forget, “The Lord is with you!”



So.... Not so warm and fuzzy. And kind of everything I hate about religion. Which isn't to say that they don't have a right to feel this way, or even to talk about it, especially to people who are like-minded. Do I think it's wrong and offensive? Yes. But I'm sure the Catholic Church is none too pleased about my life choices, and so with grace, I agree to disagree.

I guess the place my mind wandered to was this: This is what's wrong with our country. We are going down some slippery slopes. We are a country founded on freedom, and most of that was from religious oppression. Except we came here and religion came, too. Some of it, we made up when we got here...there's plenty of hybrids and new ones (Why, hello, Hill Cumorah). Ultimately, the first thing we wrote in our Constitution was that we had Religious Freedom. Congress can't promote one religion over the other. Since the question of same sex marriage has only existed because of the religious implications, it's unfair to say a group of people can't do something because of your beliefs. Just like it would be unfair for a group to tell you to stop knocking on doors with copies of "the Watchtower" or saying it's now illegal to leave bibles in the nightstand drawers of motels.

Which brings me to my next point: Legalizing same sex marriage is not waging a war against religion. A war against religion would prohibit things like Church exemption from State and Federal Taxes and other federal involvement in Religious institutions. A war against religion would be church bombings and closings and no more pamphlets or bibles, or not being able to say "GOD" in public or be a member of a church. Those are war on religion things. This is an equal rights thing. (And yes, I do see a 'War against Religion' in our society, but it has nothing to do with gay marriage, and so, I'll probably write that another time).

Same Sex Marriage is a Civil Rights thing. Like abolishing slavery and the women's lib movement and making it so no one entity could not allow a black person to marry a white person. Same level. And I can't help but wonder if the church felt so threatened by those movements; threatened enough to make statements and encourage members to not encourage these steps. Did the church want to stay white only? Did they not want women to be able to hold property and vote? Did they throw a fit when interracial marriages happened? Especially the Catholic faith... I'm really curious about that. Doesn't this put the Catholic Church on the same level as segregated churches in the South?

And before we make biblical arguments, the bible also says that Women should marry their rapists and that Men are allowed to marry their concubines (yes, plural). It also says that as Christians, we are to follow the laws of our leaders, as they have been appointed.

I don't think anywhere in the red print it says anything about judging and shunning...

Everything Changes

Whoa.

If you had told me two months ago that I'd get a job at a church and then, within two weeks, every single aspect of my life would change, I'd think you were out of your mind.

But I did. And it has. I'm not sure I know why, but... here I am.

It's been a hell of a month. From leaving everything I had behind with just a laundry basket full of my son's and my clothes, to being homeless (Thank you, sister and friends, for opening your homes), losing my car, starting a court case, barely seeing my son... it's been a roller coaster.

But what goes down also comes back up. I got my things back. My sister and her husband have loaned me their car and are helping me get another one. My job at the church has remained intact, and has been a good source of support (as well as income). I ended up with the better part of all my belongings. This past Sunday, we moved into an apartment. My son is safe with me, in his room (Which is almost back to normal and would be if I could get him to discard basically anything). Now, it's cars, and then I'm back to square one.

I was making out my calendar today and it stopped me in my tracks. I don't have plans for June. for July. For anything past this weekend, really. I couldn't make plans. The only plan I had was to be his girlfriend, my son's mom, his son's "Maybe-someday-future-stepmom". We were going to go out for our two year anniversary. We would be vacationing in Vermont in August. I'd work the 4th of July with him at the bar. Passes to the beach, the water park... Those were my plans. Two kids, two dogs, keeping up our household and cooking for our family.

It's all gone now.

There's a loss here. And I feel guilty for feeling it because there's been so much given to me, and so many people have helped me. I want to make them proud. And grieving for this huge, immeasurable loss... seems ungrateful. But it's so hard for me to look at my calendar and try to put plans together. I'm assuming my son and I will camp. That maybe we'll skip the family vacation this year, but not next. Definitely not next.

I'm sad that there's nobody to make plans with. To daydream, and compare notes. I mean, there's M. But he'd fly us to Thailand if he had the choice, which... just, no. I loved having someone to share my life with. An adult to talk to. To adventure with, make memories with. My person, the one who was supposed to be in the rocking chair next to me during the sunset years of our lives, is gone. There's no chair. There'll be no more memories. At least not with the person I thought would be in that chair next to me.

I guess I make the plans now...

Suck it, High Road.

There was this internet meme that I saw a little bit ago, and I copied it and posted it (like everywhere) because I identified so freakin' hard with it. It was simple, a black background with a simple quote on it: "I'm aware of everything, I just don't comment on the bull shit".

So true.

Call it the high road, or grace, or courtesy or manners or integrity. Whatever label you give it, it's still an awful big pill to swallow. Sometimes, I want to scream, post, shout and rant about how I feel about a certain situation. Especially if the other party is being loud about it. I just want to have a voice, to feel like I am not passive... Less victimized...

But, that's not how it goes. I don't get physical with my anger. I don't blab all over facebook and I'm way too busy being a mom and a girlfriend and a business person to leak any of my angry thoughts anywhere else. Besides, it's not who I am. It's not what I'm about. I want to make this world a better place, to spread cheer and to genuinely connect with people. How could I do that if I were trying to vindicate myself of something that everyone might not know? So most of the time, I just bite my tongue and say, in my head, in my angry voice...

"Suck it, high road."

It still hurts, though. I understand that sometimes, my actions aren't clearly understood. I don't think anyone's nailing it 100% of the time. I am human, imperfectly meandering through this life trying to sort things out every now and then. I stumble less than I did five years ago though! I make my decisions knowing full well the consequences and guess what? Sometimes it works out, and sometimes it all blows up in my face no matter how well-intentioned I was. That's when I learn who my friends are-and I have some really *great* friends. Seriously... they blow me away.

I guess I have to remember that sometimes it's like a storm. I can't control the wind, what direction it blows or how hard the gusts are. But if you plant your feet and use shelter when it's available, you start to understand that screaming into the wind won't make it blow any less. Is it fun? Not really. Sometimes, it's fun to watch if you have the right mindset on the right day, I guess. It's more about holding strong in what you know to be true; knowing that no matter how hard or strong the storm rages, no storm rages forever, and no wind can change who you truly are to what it wants you to be (at least not without your consent). It's enjoying the peace when it's over, even if it's just the eye. And there is some satisfaction in knowing that you can walk away after all is said and done with your head high...

This is the one place where everyone can still read my thoughts. I'm not censored or hidden by privacy protection. Strangely enough, it's the one place I put my really deep personal thoughts, also (probably a design flaw on my part...). The high road is hard, not very well traveled and exhausting at times. So I think, for a while, at least while the storm rages, I'll stay inside where it's warm and play with my babies...love my guy... hang some more pictures on the walls and iron some more shirts... and if you're reading this, and you're one of the "storms" in my life... know that it's ok. You're being heard. I'm sorry you're hurting, and I hope you get past whatever it is that still trips you up about me... and if you're looking for a fight, I've never been one to scream at the wind. I'm too busy, it's too pointless, and I'll still be right here doing what I need to do when you realize I'm not out to get anyone. Life's too short, people, and this girl doesn't waste a minute of hers on hate. <3

Two minutes

You have fifteen minutes to shovel. The driveway isn't bad, just a dusting. But it will give you a chance to get the dogs outside and keep the snow from piling up. You don't have to look pretty... Just slap on a hat and some big boots. Grab the shovel. What do the dogs have? Oh, it's a milk jug from the recycling container. Shovel. The dogs are in front of the house, someone must be walking by. Oh, it's a Shepard. Call the dogs back to you. The Shepard is chasing them into the yard. The owner is yelling a name that doesn't belong to my dogs. He looks worried. Must tell him my dogs are friendly, run around to the back yard just in time to see...

     The German Shepard nails Charlie to the ground. 

      He's biting him. 

      He picks Charlie up off the ground. 

      Charlie is in his mouth? This isn't play...oh. My. God. 

      Find a stick!!!! Find something!!!! He's shaking Charlie oh my God what is that noise Charlie is making?!

       He's killing Charlie. 

        Don't go near this. That dog could turn on you... This is nature...

       But I was just shoveling...

       Nick is outside. No. He's running at the dogs. He's trying to get them apart...he's going to get hurt...

       Charlie is going to die. Get ready. This is going to be ugly. Pick how much of this you can forget you saw and stop looking when you've reached that point. Prepare yourself to hold him while he dies. Be there for his last breath if this dog doesn't just carry him off somewhere. There's going to be guts and blood. I can smell the blood from here. Don't think about how much of your dog is gone focus on his spirit and making him as comfortable as you can...

       This needs to happen faster. If you're going to kill my dog, do it already. I can't handle his screams... I've got to do something. There's nothing I can do. I. I. I can't move...

        What?

         They got him free?

        Get him to the house!!! He runs inside and you're calling him frantically. Looking for a blood trail through your house but you can't see one. Did he fall apart somewhere and you didn't notice? He's got to be under the bed but he's not. I've never heard my voice sound like this, shouting his name. Doesn't he know how important it is?

         He's downstairs under the table. 

         You can't see him because your eyes are pouring tears. Nick is telling you to calm down. You're terrified to look at the wounds, you can't see the insides of your pet...

        It's not as bad as youd imagined. 

        It's still not good. 

        You drive to the vet crying harder than you thought physically possible. It's hard to tell which one of you is producing more primal sounds, you or the dog in the back seat. 

       Charlie will survive this. 

        You're grateful for Nick helping stop the a attack. For the vet assistant that tells you you're parked just fine even though your car is in the middle of the parking lot. For the tissues. For the kindness. For human cures on animal bodies. That the kids weren't home or outside. 

       You spend time flashing back and sobbing, and every time it happens, you make it your business to forget some detail, some one thing that you saw. 

        There's no shower hot enough for you to wash the smells off. You throw away the clothes-they're ripped and torn and blood stained, but most of all, they smell like that smell...

        ...When your mother was butchering a deer on the table... And you were young but it didn't smell like anything you'd ever experienced... A mix of the iron and adrenaline in the blood... Now with the smell of dog spit... And that is in your head, in your nose. You wreak of it. Your car is permeated in it....

       And you just keep falling apart....

         

       

     

Not the same...

       When I was young, I knew I was different. Maybe because my parents gave me a funny name and then spelled it funny, or because I was *that* kid with weird textile issues that made me wear skirts and knee socks until I was a teenager... I'm not sure. I do know that other kids didn't get me. It was hard for me to make friends or feel like I wasn't sticking out of the crowd. 

       All of the "celebrate your uniqueness!" posters plastered on the walls of my classrooms couldn't fix it either. No Dalmatian with rainbow polka dots was going to convince me that I should revel in my strangeness. My mother would shake her head and tell me that it was ok to be different. I just wanted to fit in, to be a part of the crowd. 

      Then high school hit, and boy if I didn't find my freak flag and just wave that shit silly...! I embraced my strange, got weird and  guess what? Was told I was looking for attention when I really think I was just trying to fit in with some (any!) brand of different. If I wasn't gonna be like "them", the shiny happy people, I at least wanted to know I was not alone. 

    Now I'm 29. I'm the kind of weird that's had time to really marinate in it. And many times, I know that I'm a unique blend of strange that can only come from being severely  honest with yourself. Few things in my life are conventional... Some of them I chose, and some were just part of the hand dealt to me. And! 29 year old me knows-it's very ok. My dad perceives this as me being a leader. My kid thinks it's cool that I'm not some fuddy-duddy like his friends parents. I look at my life and there's peace. Finally. Peace. 

      And part of this is knowing that some people don't get me still. Even as adults, some minds are too narrow or too afraid to be comfortable with the paths that others have chosen. They might feel like it's their place to guide or judge. They say things that are rude and unwelcome, and sometimes plain mean and hostile. Sometimes it's in front of my kid. At family functions. By my family, even. 

        And I want to shield myself in hardness and tell them to fuck off. I want to yell, "shame on you!" and wrap this hurt in something that doesn't look weak or affected. I want to stop going around these people, at the very least. Family or not. 

      But that's not part of my dealt hand. 

      Because even living a life you built and love comes with some adversity. 

       And if I'm going to be wrong...

      It's going to be in the rightest way. I have people watching me. Little ones. Big ones. And like it or not, how I respond to you fuck faces out there actually makes a difference and determines who I am. 

          You'd better believe I don't stoop to anyone's level. After all, I am very different!

          So. You go your way and I'll go mine. Is one way right and the other one not? I don't believe so. I'd hope my kids don't, either. Maybe they'll be your brand of normal, or maybe they won't. As long as they're true to themselves, you best believe this mama bear has got their backs. Part of this is teaching them (showing them) how to behave and rise above the muck. To appreciate the people who love and support and encourage. To understand that it's not on them when others act and speak offensively, intentions be damned. To appreciate and love people, warts and all. While we're at it, let's add some sparkle and be kind to each other-extend the love and the light. We all have lessons to learn, and you never know who could be your next teacher. 

       It's not easy walking into a room you're not comfortable in, but when you have skin that you are comfortable in-well, that's a barrier nobody can touch. 

        

Passing the Tortch...

There is something to be said for knowing when to stop...

I'm grateful for the time I've had at a certain account of mine. I'm thankful that they stuck with me after I split from my former company; that the bar owner had enough faith in my business decisions to retain my services.

However, I can look at something and know when my time is up. Not only that, but I am lucky enough to have a protege who is ready and so very capable of achieving greatness as my successor!

Tonight will be my last time DJ'ing at a certain location. I'll do half of the show-more for my assurance than anyone else, I'm sure-and then hand it over to the very capable and incredibly talented DJ Hipsie!

I feel like she will grow the business more than I could at this juncture. The goals I set out to achieve were quite lofty, and I can acknowledge that I didn't hit them. I feel that she has the potential to exceed my goals, however. With her passion and drive, she has the great chance to excel. I'm very, very excited for this new direction!

So, we grow! We learn, we trust, we listen to feedback and we reply the best way we know how. Tomorrow, I will formally address this issue. But tonight, I had to get this out. Tomorrow, we focus on preparing DJ Hipsie for greatness... for making sure she's ready for the next level! I'm so proud very proud of everything she's achieved-and so very excited to see what she can do!!!!