Bias

Recently, I was called out by a person I considered a close, trusted friend. This person was offended by some of the things I post on Facebook. Ultimately, I was called disingenuous; and, though the words were not actually said, I was also called racist, intolerant, and a bigot. I was told I condone reprehensible acts. I lost a friend that day, and a forum for emotional support.

I guess I just don’t agree with that assessment. I have a problem with people who treat others unkindly, who spread rumors and lies, and who perpetrate said reprehensible actions.

I believe that skin color, religion, gender, sexual identity, and a host of other facets of humanity shouldn’t make a difference. I don’t worry about others’ opinions – if they are a friend to me, then they are a friend to me. If they are supportive of me, they’re supportive; regardless of what their life might be outside of our relationship. Even my husband and I don’t always agree. We don’t have to, as long as we can compromise.

So, without further ado, I am going to bring up some hot-button issues. Please be aware that I may hit a nerve or two; I may poke at them repeatedly… I may rub salt into open wounds.

Topic 1: The American Flag.
I was raised to believe that the American Flag is a symbol of our nation, of its freedom, its beliefs, its diversity. As I respect my country, so must I respect its most well-known symbol. Title 4, Chapter 1 of the United States Code delineates the law for the flag: http://www.gpo.gov/fdsys/pkg/USCODE-2011-title4/html/USCODE-2011-title4-chap1.htm
Takeaway: Don’t disrespect the flag.

Topic 2: The President of the United States of America.
We live in a country where every four years we vote on, and thereby elect, a leader for our country. I don’t always agree with the majority of the votes cast, and I don’t always like the person who “wins”. Frankly, it’s pretty obvious that the person most qualified doesn’t want the position, and the people who want it, aren’t the most qualified. Still, that’s our Commander in Chief. I might not like the man, but I respect the office.
Takeaway: Don’t disrespect the POTUS.

Topic 3: Racism.
I am a forty-something Caucasian female. I present as “Aryan” with blonde hair and hazel eyes. I am, like most other multi-generation, American-born people, a mutt. I have a mixture of races bubbling through my veins. And you know what? Treat me well, behave decently, and we’ll get along fine. Act like the negative stereotype for your chosen/biological race, and I’ll probably not be around you very much. Honestly, I don’t care what color I see, unless you’re wearing too much makeup.
However… If you’re going to do stupid stuff, be prepared for the consequences. If you’re going to lie, cheat, or steal, be prepared to get caught. (And for goodness’ sake, don’t lie about being a different race… Just tell us you identify better as “black” or “white” or whatever.)
One final thought: racism isn’t something that is limited to “white” people. Anyone can be racist, toward anyone else – even themselves.
Takeaway: We all bleed red. (If you don’t, please see a doctor. ASAP.)

Topic 4: Sexual Identity.
A lot of to-do has been made in recent years over those who don’t fit the heterosexual mold. “Gay marriage”, transgenderism, and the bullying of those who are lesbian, gay, bisexual, transgender, queer or questioning. Since marriage is, in our country, a legal contract between two people, it must therefore be extended to any who choose to engage in that contract. That means marriage equality, not “gay marriage”.
Two people recently “came out” as transgender. One is a celebrity, has a lot of money, and has been in the public eye for many years. That coming out, to me, was not nearly as brave as the other: a person I have known for many years, not a close friend but someone I am liking more and more as time goes by; someone who had the courage to tell the world how they felt, knowing they could lose friends… This person isn’t wealthy, isn’t in the limelight, and just keeps on keeping on. That person is a fantastic role model for how to be and how to treat others.
I have posted memes about the military being more courageous than the celebrity’s coming out. I guess it is because that celebrity was starting to fade from the spotlight, so it seems a little forced to me. I can’t judge, I can only say what I see; but the mockery I see would, it seems to me, be more likely to force the average transgender person underground.
I also publicly support Chick Fil-A and Hobby Lobby in their religious tenets. If they don’t like non-heterosexuals or paying for birth control, fine. That is their choice, and if you don’t like it, don’t work/eat/shop there. But supporting their beliefs doesn’t make me less of an ally to the LGBTQ community – because I support their beliefs as well.
Takeaway: Again, we all bleed red.

Topic 5: The Bill Cosby Scandal.
I grew up listening to Cosby’s stand-up humor, watching Fat Albert and The Cosby Show, and Bill selling us Jell-O Puddin’ Pops. He’s funny. Why? Because he’s real.
But… He allegedly used his position to take advantage of a bunch of women. And my support of him has earned me the disdain of many, including rape survivors.
But wait – these accusations have not been proven to be true! They are suspicious in their timing, their content, and their demands. Cosby has asked to have the matter taken to criminal court, but the lawyers in the mix want a monetary settlement. They don’t want justice, they want money.
I’m not saying he did not do what he is accused of. I am saying I don’t know, and because I have seen firsthand what false allegations can do to a person, I’m not buying into the media conviction.
I still think he’s funny.
I do not think rape (or any other sexual assault) is funny or right.
Given the time that’s elapsed, I think it is now between Cosby, the women he allegedly assaulted, and God. Not me.
Takeaway: The media tells you what they want you to believe. Do the math yourself. Your 1+1 and mine may not necessarily both equal 2.

Topic 6: Religion.
I’m a Christian with some oddball other stuff mixed in. I don’t attend church regularly, though we pray at the dinner table. I very much believe in Creation, but I don’t think Creation and Evolution are mutually exclusive. Science has led to the creation of my very own miracle, but I remain convinced that if God didn’t want that particular miracle to happen, it would not have happened.
God has a lot of names. Adonai, Elohim, Yahweh, Jehovah, El Shaddai, I AM, Allah, Shepherd, Redeemer, Messiah, Savior, Abba, Father, Almighty, Rabbi… The list goes on and on and on.
My God-made-Man, Jesus Christ, preached… Tolerance. He meant to spread the Word of His Father’s mercy. So… Cover your hair, or don’t; wear robes and headdresses, or jeans and t-shirts; meditate or pray. If you are kind, you are the kind of person I want to be around. But even Christ hung out with murderers, thieves and whores… And He changed their lives.
Takeaway: Your religion doesn’t matter. Your actions do.

Really, I’m pretty darned opinionated. I don’t believe it stops me from being a kind, caring individual.

Magic Kisses

Love heals.

It’s a fact. Babies who don’t get held enough don’t grow. Kids who don’t get enough love develop attachment disorders. Hugs and kisses from a loved one promote the release of oxytocin – and when one feels safe, stress levels go down, which allows the body to work on fixing itself.

Still, most of this is completely unscientific. It’s the power of belief, a placebo effect.

Yet… Might there be something to this? Might a Mommy’s kisses actually heal a small child’s owie?

I believe it to be true.

Sure, “magic kisses” certainly distract the child from the pain, at least a bit. But I have discovered that, even if you don’t believe, there’s something to it. And it doesn’t have to be a mother. It can certainly be a Daddy, a Grandma or Grandpa, a brother or sister, aunt, uncle, cousin, or even a child.

Here’s my decidedly non-scientific proof that certainly cannot be replicated:

I had a small spot on my right wrist that originally acted very wartlike. About five years ago, my doctor burned it off and cauterized it for me… But it came back. It itched randomly, so I would scratch at it, causing it to get red and bleed. Even when there was no scab from my scratching, it was a raised bump, rough and red.

A few months ago, my two-year-old daughter noticed Mommy’s “owie” and insisted on kissing it. This continued, almost daily, for weeks.

Last week I noticed that the spot hadn’t itched in a while. One of those things you just don’t think of – you just don’t notice the absence of pain. But it popped into my head, so I looked.

There’s a tiny pink area, but the skin is perfectly smooth. The rough bump that has been there for years is completely gone. If I press really hard, I can feel the scar tissue – but I have to really feel for it.

My daughter, a miracle herself, has effected a tiny miracle of her own. And I didn’t even really believe her kisses were helping.

Angels

I have a confession to make.

I’m a giver.

Yeah, that’s right. One of those people who truly enjoy giving things to other people. At Christmas, it’s nice to get stuff, but my favorite part is seeing the reactions of those who receive. From something really needed – like a new watch, last Christmas, for my Dad – to something intangible – the angel story I told my Mom last Christmas – I love seeing excitement and smiles.

If I hear about someone that needs something, and I can help, I will. No, I’m not bragging about how awesome I am. It’s just a fact, and, well, it makes me feel good. And why do anything if it makes you feel bad? Hey, I get pleasure out of this and bonus, someone gets something they need. Win-win.

I love coming home from Kroger with bags of groceries and seeing my son’s face light up when he sees that I got cheap popsicles, or sheets of seaweed, or Ramen noodles. A few days ago I bought a 4-pack of cheap toddler toothbrushes, and have had to wrestle the one I gave my teething daughter away from her. The surprise and love on my hubby’s face when I wake him on a weekend day with coffee and from-scratch blueberry muffins.

I’ve received two things that can’t ever be topped as gifts. The first one was quite a few years ago, when I found a firm-but-squishy bundle wrapped in tissue paper under the tree. It was about half-unwound when I realized it was my childhood doll – I was in joyful tears by the time I actually saw her. My Grandma had taken her to a doll hospital and had her repaired. I still have her. The other gift I received wasn’t for birthday or Christmas. She was, quite literally, a miracle from Heaven. That’s my daughter, who in two short weeks will be a year old.

So that being said, I’m beginning my annual Angel quest. For years, my Mom bought my Grandma an Angel each year. When Grandma passed away (almost nine years ago), Mom inherited her Angel collection… And I began adding to it. I’ll never, ever, ever top last year’s “Angel”, but I can find something!

The Story of the Guardian Angels – written for my Mom, Susan Vasilakis.

It is said that when a new soul is released from Heaven, it is accompanied to its assigned infant by one of God’s favored angels. At the last moment before birth, the angel gently presses its finger to the child’s upper lip, and whispers, “Shhhh. Don’t tell what you know.” This is why there is a mark on our upper lip.

The angel who accompanied the soul is assigned to be the child’s Guardian Angel, an esteemed and coveted position. Angels pray for the day that they will be assigned to a newborn; each time a child is conceived, no matter the circumstances, they rejoice in the new little miracle and wonder amongst themselves who will be the chosen one.

And so it was in our story. The angels, who know that miracles can happen in the oddest ways, collectively held their breath as a much-wanted child was conceived. But God called them together and said, “Be patient, my loves. This child is more of a miracle than even you know.”

The angels waited. And waited. And waited. And finally… God called them together again and said, “It is time to choose a Guardian.”

He walked among them, nodding, shaking His head, and finally stopped before two angels. These angels were holding hands. They’d each been in Heaven for less than a decade, and though they hoped to be chosen, they didn’t really think they would be. But God nodded to them and said, “This child is special to Me. She will need two Guardians.”

The assembled angels gasped. Two Guardians? That only happened in the rarest of cases! But clearly God knew what He had in His Plan for the little one. The two angels smiled, tears in their eyes, and went joyfully to the soul nursery to collect their charge.

Upon arrival to the soul’s infant, one angel cradled the child’s head in his hand (and left a small, strawberry colored angel mark), while the other pressed her finger to the little girl’s upper lip. The angel cradling her head whispered to her, “Shhh, Meghann. Don’t tell what you know.”

Even so, every so often little Miss Meggie Bean will smile, and laugh, and talk to someone that doesn’t seem to be there. In her soft little babble, she calls them Great-Grandma Anetta and Great-Grandpa Barney. We cannot see them, but she knows they are there – her two very special Guardian Angels.

I guess I’m a blogger now!

Miracles. Madness. Those two words pretty much sum up my life. Either it’s drama-laden or full of complete joy. Sometimes both at the same time!

I’m probably going to talk about my miracles a lot. I adore them. Their names are Justice, Ford and Meghann – my kiddos. I “inherited” Justice and Ford when I married their Dad back in 2005 – but if I hadn’t adored them, too, I’d have never had a second date with him. That was clear, and, well, that’s what I wanted, too. Meghann is our new addition, and I’m learning a lot about being a Mom from her. I mean, I probably changed 3 diapers in my life before she was born. And I’m an “older mother”, so while I’m dropping Ford off at the high school I’m planning to take a toddler to the park sometime this weekend. If I remember. And don’t run out of time or get sidetracked…

I do intend for this blog to be about other things, too. Like world happenings, holidays, traffic jams… And maybe even the color of the sky.

So, without further ado… I’m going to go to bed and dream up some awesome topics.