It is a cold slap in the face when the first words you see: “30 dead in club shooting” doesn’t change your reaction one fucking bit. Yet those were my wake-up messages on my news link (since I have no tv service I subscribe to news texts). I rolled over and went back to sleep. What a numbed-down society we have become in the 17 years since Columbine. As my friend Kaylee posted, it is day 164 of 2016 and there have been 173 mass shootings in the U.S. thus far.
I had to pick Maggie up at 9:50. I texted her I was “here – by the dead possum” on the side of the road. Turns out the dead possum was really a raccoon. Somehow he had the remains of a popped blue balloon on him. As we headed to pick up Ethan, tears ran from my face and I cried as I list
ened to special coverage on NPR. I want to go, get out, move away, go somewhere else! I can’t handle living in a country where the NRA bans research on gun violence. How is that even possible? Why is there such a stranglehold on this nation? And then I started thinking – I have to get licensed first, I’m here for 5 more years, Bridge, lady, be a goddamn bridge. Besides – trauma therapy – this is what I want to specialize in, and so….
I picked up The Boy who managed to tell me he doesn’t feel well and needs Gatorade before falling asleep in the car – Mags and I did some grocery shopping for health-related items and headed home. It was here that Maggie and I sat down and created a List of Things To Do. Then, we started Doing Them (as Boy slept). This girl – my heart pounds with pride and amazement as I observe this Womanly-Child who knows what to do. I’m 44 and still don’t often get it – mind you, I understand we are on different levels, so please don’t think I look upon Mags as an adult, but she can <this sounds so silly> clean the kitchen with a diligence that I have never had – so I watch her,
I learn. We put on some tunes then sing to each other, dance with each other as we continue cleaning.
A text from a foster parent put me into work mode, so I called the parent, we spoke, then I headed to the office to look into some stuff. Of course, the alarm went off. Of course, the alarm company didn’t answer the phone. For a good 7 minutes an ear-piercing scream was going off while I calmly tried reaching people. – finally I managed to shut it off, seconds before the company picked up the call. Now to try to get in touch with our Head Dude, which I couldn’t do at the moment, so I waited in the parking lot for half an hour or so to see if he showed up. He didn’t.
Back at home, Maggie and I cooked – we made fajitas from scratch – tortillas included. She made strawberry pie, Ethan slept. Maggie and I ate delicious fajitas and literally watched 2 episodes of “Parks & Rec” Ethan slept. Maggie and I went outside to start my HSMF prep work on the bus – needed to vacuum away Fernwood to p
repare Lizzie for Quincy. We painted; we found my kick-ass copper lights that never made it to Hipnic (next year), we came inside and cleaned up dinner mess – joking, enjoying, loving each other. Ethan slept. The bottom line is this – it shall not change. This is Life – a constant ebb and flow of conflict and unity – peace and war. It will not change and while many speak of learning from history, we do not, because we are not our ancestors. Much like children, we don’t believe you that the fire is hot, despite your constant warnings and proof of your scarred hands – we need to touch it on our own and experience the pain. The idea that we can learn from history is inconceivable, because we are those children…trying desperately to prove how grown-up we actually are. So I will do the best thing that I can do and teach my children to not KILL or RAPE people. I will teach them EMPATHY and COMAPSSION – to ACCEPT others, despite difference. I will LOVE my children. Ethan woke up.
Pictures: Sitting with my Girl – Love Conquers Hate hat that I’ve been wearing in the months I got it from the HRC center in Castro; Scratch fajitas; Prepping Lizzie for High Sierra Music Festival
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