Happy Anniversary - to Texting!

      

I know I have lived through a time when there was no such thing as texting, but to see this handy form of communicating hit the 30-year-old mark has me SMH and LOL.

According to businesswire.com, "Infobip, a global leader in omnichannel communications, today, announced new data from its 2022 '30th Anniversary of the SMS" survey, which sheds light on how, where, and when Americans are communicating with each other."

First things first: I had to look up the meaning of SMS. And I hear you, 'c'mon, it is obvious!' Alas, I never thought about what it meant for all these years and feel no shame for it.  To those of you still reading this, it means short message service. 

Some of the texting survey highlights include:

-Americans of a certain age prefer texting to calling - SOSO. 

-Texting and driving are deadly and still sadly very popular.

-Sexting is a popular element of romance used primarily by millennials, then GenZ and GenXers, and lastly by boomers. Again, no surprise. Men (52%) send sexts while 38% of women partake. 

-Texting while drunk continues to include the element of regret. ROTFL

-Businesses incessantly hungry for our eyeballs use texting as much as possible to communicate brand info with us. 

While my email has transformed into a repository for shopping confirmations and sales reminders, texts are a sacred space.  I try to keep my text world protected by using it to chat solely with my people (and for the occasional hair appointment reminder/confirmation - I did say sacred, right?) 

One mistake I made when I began to text was including abbreviations like "u" "cu" and "k" for a while. Texts took on a hieroglyphic feel which displeased me so I happily returned to mostly using the English language. 

Emojis are a kind of hieroglyphics in the text world and I try to use them judiciously partly due to trouble in locating a specific one - let's say a horn-blowing confetti that can be found in the middle of mailboxes and bed emojis. 

Sadly, this year is the one where I "discovered" the emoji search box that has been there ALL THE TIME! Sad face emoji. 

My beef with texting is the l-e-n-g-t-h-y practice of the text chain. The ability to reach many folks at once is tainted with so many replies/comments/blah blah blah. And yet, this week I was the leader of a text chain pack to nail down a December meeting with eight of my fellow book club members. 

Do as I say, not as I do.

Another beef I have (that is ironically also a plus) is the three texting bubbles. They percolate during a text exchange relaying that a reply is imminent - until it isn't. My soft sensibilities cannot take seeing those bubbles of hope only to result in no reply text. Sigh. I'm just a girl waiting for a friend to reply.

    

And to be fair, I've accidentally left my cursor in the text box, potentially giving false hope to the recipient. Apologies to my dearest friends. 

Morning Brew Newsletter's musings today include a tidbit about what if texting had been around throughout human history. It prompted the idea for this blog post and offered a few ideas:

Cleopatra to Mark Antony: "u up?"

Francis Scott Key to his buddy: "Does 'rockets red glare' sound dumb?"

This activity delighted me and I offer these:

Aaron Burr to Alexander Hamilton: "STFU!"

Israelites to Moses: "Where are u?"

 Harry S. Truman:  "Venmo me" 

Neil Armstrong and Apollo Mission Control: 

   

As a kid, meeting friends locally or walking to school with them required a phone call the night before to set a time to meet the next day.

I walked to school for 12 years (uphill both ways as my kids like to tease) and met up with my cohort along the way. 

As I roamed the neighborhoods toward school, my friends would be ready and waiting (or not, which meant we'd wait a minute or two and move along.) A very simple plan.

Today, texting would improve this dated process with real-time info, hands down. We have however lost our ability to just wait - to pause and give people time. (heck, I am antsy sitting at a stoplight anymore!) 

I appreciate that a "see you in 10" or "go ahead w/o me" text removes ambiguity and frustration which is the best of texting, but I do have a soft spot for the frills-free days of "be there at the appointed time."

I'm sure I am romanticizing something that texting has clearly made better. There is, however, an irresistible patina of simplicity in the long-ago days of no texting. 

Happy 30th to texting! You've been a real part of my life for almost half of it. I hope this post wasn't TLDR.

UR the bomb. 

Link to the businesswire.com article:    https://www.businesswire.com/news/home/20221202005008/en/Infobip-releases-30th-Anniversary-of-the-SMS-Report#:~:text=The%20report%20was%20commissioned%20to,said%2C%20%E2%80%9CMerry%20Christmas.%E2%80%9D

Link to top 100 text abbreviations:      https://messente.com/blog/text-abbreviations

Link to Morning Brew Newsletter: https://www.morningbrew.com/daily/issues/latest

We Practice

Monthly fire drills 

Lockdown drills 

Shelter-in-place drills 

Like most schools in the US, the staff and students at the elementary school where I work practice all of these drills. 

We diligently, quietly, and respectfully practice. 

We are 600+ students and over 100 staff members. 

We range in age from 5 years to 70+ years old and represent a spectrum of abilities. 

We practice where to go in an emergency; where the 'safest’ part of the classroom or other gathering areas is located. 

We huddle together, in silence, when sheltering in place. 

We report via laptop if anyone is missing. We report via laptop where we are. 

We deal with blocked exits so we know what to do if that happens during a fire. 

We stand outside in silence as teacher-by-teacher reports their class status via walkies. 

We must pass a series of clearances on a regular basis: an FBI clearance, a state police background check, a child abuse history clearance, and an arrest/conviction certification report. 

We know that anyone entering the building must first ring a doorbell at the school entrance where a camera sees who is there. 

We ask the visitor questions and for legal identification before granting entry. 

We practice lining up by class all the time. This keeps things organized but the subtext is safety where we can quickly account for every child if we are anywhere else but the classroom in an emergency 

We practice, practice, practice for all of this. 

We comply with these safety procedures because we value the safety of our children and those who care for them.

We teach and reinforce safety every day.

Yet we fail these same people because the world of guns and danger is real and woven in a hideous relationship with elected officials and money compromising the best intentions of a safe school environment. 

When are we going to turn the tables and make access to assault weapons difficult? 

Our country is horrifically unique in the world when it comes to our fetish for assault weapons and unfettered access to them. 

When you turn 18, an assault weapon can be yours. Just like that. Why? This is not sportsmanship.  This is a weapon for mass murder. 

These very assault weapons make a 4th-grade victim unrecognizable and require parents to supply DNA samples on the worst day of their lives. 

We watch as the collectors of ‘donations’ from the gun lobby/NRA/various political action committees for gun rights in Texas send their soulless 'thoughts and prayers' to the elementary school families.

 

We watch as a Texas senator, Texas governor, and a former president plan to speak at an NRA convention on Friday. 

The Robb Elementary School shooting was the 30th such mass shootings in 2022. 

We are 145 days into 2022.  

In nearly a quarter of those days, a mass shooting took place. 

Brady United lists the elected officials who accept NRA money to support their elections. 

https://elections.bradyunited.org/take-action/nra-donations-116th-congress-senators

It is a non-profit gun control group created after then-President Reagan’s press secretary, Jim Brady, was among those shot in an attempt on the president’s life in 1981. He was permanently disabled and his death in 2012 was correctly ruled a homicide due to those injuries. 

We are strangled by wildly distorted views of gun control instead of liberated and united by sensible limits to what firearm access should be. Step one: ban the sale of assault weapons. 

The answer is NOT more guns. Too many guns have placed us right here. 

Meanwhile, the smallest, most vulnerable of us practice. 

The smallest, most vulnerable of us look to the adults and we fail them. 

Until this country deals with the unchallenged access to assault rifles, mass shootings are not a matter of if, but when.

https://www.sandyhookpromise.org/

https://www.everytown.org/

Roadrunner

This blog post mentions suicide.  National Suicide Prevention Lifeline 800-273-8255 available 24 hours in English and Spanish. 

Well, of course, I loved him. 

I loved him along with all others who followed his travels around the world and virtually placed themselves in the seat across from him, watching and listening as he flicked on the light of his curiosity.  

Anthony Bourdain shared his worldview as a storyteller.  He loved the strength of well-honed phrases  His rat-a-tat-tat verbal delivery sated the moment. He could have been writing songs he was so lyrical.

This oral finesse along with his bass timbre, lanky gate, commanding height created a navigation system that seemed unbeatable.

But, as we all know, that is the lie. No one is unbeatable.  We all need serious scaffolding to hold us up.

I recently watched this summer's release of Roadrunner, A Film About Anthony Bourdain, and Bourdain's suicide hurts my heart as much today as when he died in 2018.  

The film left me feeling surprisingly untethered; a reminder that the bruises of suicide don't necessarily heal for the living - even those of us watching from the very, very cheap seats.  

Bourdain first popped up on my radar during his No Reservations show on the Travel Channel followed by CNN's Parts Unknown. His appeal was as the cool kid who could lure the viewer into his shenanigans.  We were invited to be his co-conspirators and we could almost hear him utter, "Psssst....come see this!"

A favorite Parts Unknown episode for me aired three months following Bourdain's death.  W. Kamau Bell (I am a big fan of his United Shades of America show) and Bourdain traveled to Kenya - a country neither man had ever visited. Bell's middle  name - Kamau - is Kenyan meaning 'quiet warrior.'

Bourdain savored Bell's discomfort watching goat's head soup being prepared for him. Bell knew the time and space shared was precious and noted this arc while the two sat perched before the golden vista in the Lewa Wildlife Conservancy. It cemented a connection to each other, to Kenya, to Nature, to Life, to feeling small in the raw, wide world. 

I saw it as another perfect example of how Bourdain drew in his guests, his guides, and his viewers determined that they experience the marrow of the moment.

As someone who loves to cook and bake, who delights in reading about food, who pours over recipes, and follows chefs, cooks etc. on social media, I was naturally intrigued by Bourdain's iterations of travel/food television shows. I watched and listened intently always appreciating his ability to straddle being relaxed and edgy as he sought to unspool the essence of location - always appreciating it with a touch of humility. 

I had never read Bourdain's insider Kitchen Confidential until after he died. While I prefer to read the print version of books, I deferred to the audio version listening to it each night as I prepared dinner at home. I chopped, seared, blended, and mashed paying a small homage to this cook turned chef turned author turned TV host turned famous man of the world.  I reveled in the many faces of Bourdain.

My choice of an audiobook had a singular motivation: I hungered to hear him spin tales.

It was excruciatingly clear while watching Roadrunner how Bourdain's many friends and co-workers who appeared in the film did so because of their shared craving to reminisce, to wonder, to search for answers.  Not one of them had yet to find someplace to rest their grief.  

The film's power for me came from this repeated universal need to experience their compadre; to talk of him in shared pain and joy; to utter their loss and struggle as they felt impotent in knowing he slipped through the bonds of their friendship.  

Bourdain insisted he was not a good friend ("I'm not going to remember your birthday") and yet many lined up to be his. He was the guy they all wanted to be around.  And now they couldn't. 

In the 2017 Tony award winner for Best Musical The Band's Visit, the final song's lyrics titled Answer Me bubbled up as I watched Roadrunner.

All alone,

In the quiet,

Ah, my ears are thirsty

For your voice,

For your voice,

Can you answer me?

Criticism of the film's intent noted it as "a snippy tell-all" pointing to heavy focus on Bourdain's TV shows and too little focus on his hefty career in restaurant kitchens and heroin addiction as a young man. I did not see it this way but I understand how the author arrived here. All loss leaves a mark.    https://www.wbur.org/news/2021/07/15/roadrunner-anthony-bourdain-documentary-review  

The article's critic included a spot-on bit from comedian Dave Chappelle's 2019 show Sticks and Stones that referenced a sort of celebrity sleight-of-hand when we think we know how good life must be for famous, rich folk. Chappelle reminded us that Bourdain's death telegraphs one truth: "No matter what it might look like from the outside, you don't know what the f--- is going on inside." 

In 1980, I visited my brother Vincent in Maui for three weeks. His newly claimed home blew open my worldview.  We saw the island from the sea, air, and land and the boxes of slides that resulted in my unquenchable thirst to capture it all numbered in the "way too many" range.  I wanted to share all of it upon returning home and did so to a very patient group of co-workers held hostage by my "you gotta see this" slide show. I easily fell into the 'vacation slides sharing' trap.  (I again apologize to those lovely co-workers.)

I offer this only to say it's easy to overshare.  Bourdain did the opposite of this. He managed to lure us in as travel companions even in this world where any internet search will provide easy context for all things exotic.  We wanted him and his point of view to guide us. 

He managed to deftly describe important moments, making them important to those of us who loved his work. 

Morgan Neville, Roadrunner Director created a 100-song playlist of favorite titles randomly mentioned by Bourdain with some added by the chef's friends.  

https://www.rollingstone.com/music/music-news/anthony-bourdain-roadrunner-playlist-1200455/

Listening to it while I meandered through this post I was unsurprised by the 

beat-thumping, electric guitar-laden push of Patti Smith's High on Rebellion, Elvis Costello's Lipstick Vogue, or New Order's Blue Monday.  

These seemed to represent Bourdain's velocity.

Also notable were unexpected softer choices such as the Beach Boys' God Only Knows, The Velvet Underground's Sweet Jane, Earth, Wind, and Fire's That's The Way of the World, and Kevin Morby's Beautiful Stranger. 

I think these, like much of his offerings, pulsed from his soul.   

Roadrunner isn't perfect and neither was Bourdain. We are all just fragile humans. 

Two more links to Roadrunner reviews:

https://www.nbcnews.com/think/opinion/anthony-bourdain-movie-roadrunner-doesn-t-allow-life-s-loose-ncna1274895

https://www.nytimes.com/2021/07/15/movies/roadrunner-a-film-about-anthony-bourdain-review.html

Article on the use of artificial intelligence technology to replicate Bourdain's voice in the film:

https://www.npr.org/2021/07/16/1016838440/ai-brought-anthony-bourdains-voice-back-to-life-should-it-have

Things I Learned in 2020

 There has been sooooo much learning (and other spicy descriptors that I'll leave to your imagination) this past year. Let's get to it. 

In 2020 I learned:

- how incredibly naive our traditional New Year's Day meal of 'good luck' pork and sauerkraut felt as the months passed

- how to sew a mask, wear a mask, what makes an KN95 mask desirable, and what social distancing means

- mask wearing during a pandemic is good citizenship - period

- seeing crinkly eyes on an otherwise hidden face is heartwarming/reassuring

- social skills are not to be taken for granted.  They require practice   https://www.nytimes.com/2020/12/20/style/self-care/feeling-socially-awkward-even-extroverts-are-a-little-rusty.html?searchResultPosition=1

- wedding ceremonies can be micro sized and continue to have macro impact

- elementary school students wear their face masks all day (even during outdoor recess) with little complaint b/c being in school with friends is very reassuring to them!

- hiking with my eldest daughter in Hawaii is a gift

- everything that includes Hawaii is also a gift

- Zoom

- Kahoot

- nothing - absolutely nothing- can stand-in for a proper hug

- 81,283,485 American voters chose sane, thoughtful leadership in wanting better for everyone in our country; 74,223,744 more voters need to find their way to this 

- losing 59 out of 60 lawsuits (and counting) is the sign of a colossal loser

- having my brother Joe stranded here for six months while awaiting entry back to his South African home served up the gift of connection.  Amen to all of it!

- the world now understands that teachers do whatever it takes, whenever it is needed, however it is possible, with relentless passion.  Ditto for all essential workers

- parents navigating life with school aged children during a pandemic are rock stars 

- livestreaming a cooking class via airbnb Experience with a South Korean cook/travel writer instructing from Seoul was a super satisfying and clever gift from my younger daughter - I feel seen

- kimchi has many, many uses

- makgeolli (milky rice wine) is kimchi's worthy sidekick

- black lives matter - no additional qualifiers needed

- white privilege means a lack of inconvenience.  It is blinding.  It has impact. It needs to be tamed

- having my mom on the planet for 93 years still wasn't enough time; ditto for my 90 year old mother-in-law and 89 year old father-in-law

- a weekly zoom date with four college pals is free therapy

- gratitude begets optimism

- with lyrics like ~ well you never know how far from home you're feeling until you watch the shadows cross the ceiling ~ John Prine's Summer's End goes to my core https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nXbEFTv9zr0

 

- reading Circe ignited an unexpected appreciatation for Greek mythology.  Brava local author, Madeline Miller 

- my love for writing and my lack of results begets frustration

- using "begets" twice in a blog post makes me simultaneously chuckle and roll my eyes

- Sweet & Satisfying Tip: "Reminder that if you bought an advent calendar the day after Christmas when they were heavily discounted you can now count down the 25 days until Inauguration Day with chocolate." from @Kaitlin_Benz on Instagram

- democracy is a deliberate action - not a place

- the glory, joy, and humanity of all six seasons of Schitt's Creek (I came to this brilliant show so darn late!)  This clever "adapted for 2020" year-end video brings out the best of these memorable characters and makes me smile over and over

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nTenLwKVlxc

Thank you dear, patient reader for indulging this year-end vanity project. May 2021 be satisfying. 

I'll let WH Auden have the last word.

 

How should we like it were stars to burn

With a passion for us we could not return?

If equal affection cannot be,

Let the more loving one be me.

from "The More Loving One" by WH Auden

Living While White

There's no lack of places in which to begin.

I am white.  I am neither celebrating nor condemning it.  I am more than ever examining what it means in a multi-racial world.  I am and will forever be a student and learning is my oxygen.  

The school of combating racism has always been in session for people of color.  While I condemn racism as a matter of course, I see how I am a back seat passenger on this journey. Words and deeds have been separate while my everyday life remains largely unchallenged by racism.  Even as I have participated in the women's march, and marches against gun violence, a march against racism and police brutality finds me at home. My mind says no to racism but my feet are passive. Until now.

Malvern PA 6/14/20

George Floyd's lynching, and all those before him, by a police officer sworn to protect and defend citizens and the rule of law may as well have happened in the 1800s.  A white man uses his limitless power/privilege along with other white men to literally squeeze the life out of an unarmed black man, in front of witnesses in daylight, as Mr. Floyd and others on his behalf beg for reprieve for 8 minutes and 46 seconds.  

Breonna Taylor.  

Ahmaud Arbery. 

Racism is a system, and the death of people of color at the hands of guns, police, and vigilantes, protected by laws that favor guns over common sense, has been an ugly American legacy.

When asked what I think about the subsequent riots, looting, protests, the calls for defunding of police, the worldwide outcry for justice and humanity regardless of color, - my reply is, "I don't know what it is to be living while black."  It has been a truth since taking my first breath.  And when I don't know something, seeking knowledge about it is required.  Listening is required.  I have been on the static perimeter.  

Hearing some white people take cover behind the video of a charlatan's argument (I refuse to use her name) that offers the ultimate false "what aboutism" as she figuratively murders Mr. Floyd a second time because he had a criminal record shows how desperate we are to get permission to look away.  "Mr. Floyd was a criminal so why are we (black people) making him a hero?"  She seeks and receives attention for what activist/professor Dr.  Brittney Cooper calls "cookies" from white people seeking a reason to use his record as a cancellation of his worth.  Her form of opportunistic self-aggrandizement stinks like fish on the third day.  Shame on her and those who shield themselves behind her phony argument.  

Which brings me 180 degrees into the light to a most constructive event that occurred last week: Instagram's Share the Mic Now.

Dr. Cooper, @professor_crunk, and 45 other activists, professors, writers, community leaders, artists, and authors of color recently participated in this social media event.  They took over the accounts of their white counterparts to share the work they have been creating and advocating for years in supporting communities of color, feminism, education, and in fighting racism.  Via posts, Instagram stories and Instagram Live, many white audiences became the beneficiaries of this knowledge/opinions/research/activism.

School was most definitely in session.

Dr. Cooper, an associate professor of Women's and Gender Studies at Rutgers University, read from her current book, Eloquent Rage: A Black Feminist Discovers Her Superpower, specifically from the chapter titled, "White Girl Tears" in which she calls out white women/feminists on our failure to influence other white women in the 2016 election. In her words, "White feminists did not come get their people. Who are the people of white feminists? Other white women."   https://www.instagram.com/p/CBRMmTLh3ga/

 This message was echoed in 2018 during the Brett Kavanaugh's Supreme Court confirmation hearings when she tweeted: "If white women tears can't compel white men to do better, nothing will."   

Dr. Yaba Blay, @fiyawata, assistant professor, Africana Studies, Drexel University and author of (1)ne Drop: Shifting the Lens on Race, and creator of the web series Professional Black Girls spoke on racial identity and noted along with other event peers about some trepidation having a largely white audience for the day and acknowledged being tapped by some of her black friends/followers with concern over what she was opening herself up to.  She tempered the concern with a knowing that any opportunity to share the message is an opportunity to be taken.  

https://www.instagram.com/p/CBSAvIoAlNr/

Tarana Burke, @taranajaneen, creator of the #metoo movement in 2006 with her work with empowering black women and girls who have experienced abuse/trauma doubled down on the access to a wider audience as necessary.  She shared that having white women as accomplices in order for black women to have a conduit into the mainstream (which is another word for white world) is helpful and necessary because "our message needs to go to a broader audience."  Ms. Burke added that the goal is have access without a white conduit.  "My voice should count on its own.  I shouldn't need a surrogate but you give me any mic, I've got something to say,!" she stated. 

Miatta Johnson, @miattajohnson, President of the marketing firm MVD Inc., responded to being asked to comment on this moment this way:  "People are understanding that its not just black people who are upset.  People are understanding that its not just where we put a band aid on the problem; we have to actually peel back the layers of our own bias and do better.  This time feels different."  https://www.instagram.com/p/CBRdLnUB7Zp/

I have only skimmed the surface of women who participated in Share the Mic Now and continue to listen, read, and purchase books authored by these voices in my very small way of learning more and doing so much better. 

Malvern PA 6/14/20

Another activist whom I've followed on Instagram since last summer is Rachel Cargle @rachel.cargle. Ms. Cargle is concise and unforgiving as she offers historic perspective and challenges her followers to go deep with topics that make us squirm.  She numerically dissects comments on her Instagram posts to instruct readers on the importance of context and calls out specific double meanings.  Her Instagram posts are a worthy education. She offers free coursework along with subscription based courses via the Patreon platform. She is a teacher but I see her more as an alarm clock repeatedly urging us to awaken!  https://www.instagram.com/p/CBRrRpAnkmI/

Ms. Cargle's black history prompts steer the reader into areas of racism in American history that are regularly sidelined by white perspective/interpretation. She also curates, "The Great Unlearn" community where "whitewashed colonized understanding of the world" is addressed. She is also the founder and CEO of the Loveland Foundation which provides therapy support for women and girls of color.  What started as a birthday wish fundraiser morphed quickly into a sustaining provider of services. https://thelovelandfoundation.org/ways-to-give/

As I type this post, Breonna Taylor's murderers - police officers who wrongfully stormed into her Louisville KY apartment on 3/13/20 and shot her 8 times - have yet to be arrested.  She is someone's girlfriend, daughter, co-worker, - she is a young woman of color and her death must be reckoned with.  How are those officers still not arrested?   https://www.nytimes.com/aponline/2020/06/11/us/ap-us-america-protests-kentucky.html

The planet is activated.   Now what?

Author Roxane Gay's recent opinion piece in the NYTimes wearily reminds us: "Some white people act as if there are two sides to racism, as if racists are people we need to reason with.  They fret over the destruction of property and want everyone to just get along...they offer no alternatives about what a people should do about a lifetime of rage, disempowerment and injustice."   https://www.nytimes.com/aponline/2020/06/11/us/ap-us-america-protests-kentucky.html

I'll close with Dr. Blay: "We need a boot camp for white people to learn about white supremacy because this is not about how you feel.  This is not about being seen as nice...most folks have never been required to learn about race, let alone racism.  Most woman have not been asked to look at the intersection of their gender and their race." 

The great learning AND unlearning is here.  Let's get to it and stay with it.  Instead of being afraid of change blowing our way, let us only fear the already known catastrophe of not addressing it.

There is too much at stake. 

"Knowing" in Three Parts

The wind howls, the rain pounds against the windows, tree branches slap wildly, tornado warnings beep on my phone, the sun bursts through, and the rain returns in torrents.  This April day's weather screams of uncertainty and change - a metaphor for a planet in the throes of Covid19. With more questions than answers, I offer thoughts on my small world during a pandemic, each through a lens of "knowing" for yesterday/today/tomorrow.

What I thought I knew:

1. The day of the week and the calendar date

2. A love for reading books

3. A love for cooking

4. How to eyeball what six feet apart looks like on local walking trails and maintain it
5. Medical professionals perform jobs that include many stomach churning parts 
6. My failings
7. Creating my food shopping list in the order of the store layout
8. The cost of offering a smile - nothing

9. Pets are comfort
10.We have a childish, self-absorbed, career con-artist president who couldn't lead a horse to water
11. Face Time
12. A disinterest in making sour dough bread
13. Bleeding heart plants in my garden bloom in early May 
14. The definition of an Optimist: someone who sees the bright side and that things will work out
15. Teachers create worlds for all types of learners every day in the classroom
16. Standing shoulder to shoulder at concert venues brings the communal music experience to its fullest
17. Boxes of memorabilia in the attic and various closets bring comfort.
18. Meeting friends at a bar or restaurant is casual and easy
19. "Don't it always seem to go that you don't know what you've got 'til it's gone"

What I now know:

1. Morning, Afternoon and Evening

2. A pandemic finds me struggling to read books

3. I still love to cook

4. Most fellow walkers who travel two, three, and four abreast on local trails reliably do not eyeball what six feet apart looks like nor do they seek it
5. Medical professionals have bravery that exceeds my imaginings
6. There are more than I thought
7. Entering the store from a different doorway and beginning to shop on the opposite end of the store using one way aisles tosses me into the "away team" category
8. A smile has immeasurable value
9. I regret not having a pet
10. Ditto, only worse as he uses daily briefings during a pandemic for personal ego rallies
11. Zoom
12. I am still not interested in making sour dough bread
13. Bleeding heart plants in my garden bloom in early April 
14. An Apocaloptimist: someone who knows it's all going to s*%t but still thinks things will turn out okay (credit to @mesa.fama)
15. Teachers can create these worlds virtually in the span of mere days
16. How did we ever stand shoulder to shoulder in crowds for anything?
17. Boxes of memorabilia in my home attic and various closets take up a lot of emotional and physical space
18. Meeting friends at a bar, restaurant, or anywhere should NEVER be taken for granted
19. Joni Mitchell is right

What I hope to know:

1. To trust my calendar

2. How to find my way back to reading books

3. To rely less on recipes and more intuition when I cook

4. Patience with myself and others in the social distancing world
5. People will continue to train to be and choose to work as medical professionals
6. Improvement and acceptance are always possible
7. Even infinitesimal change - such as feeling like the away team -  is growth
8. A smile translates well through crinkly eyes while wearing a homemade personal protection mask
9. Pet memes and photos still bring comfort
10. A November change in presidency
11. Up close and personal conversation minus a computer/phone/any device
12. Appreciation for all sour dough bread bakers (especially you hardy first timers!) 
13. Electing leaders who give science its due re: climate change and other crises
14. More new words to describe this current world
15. Teachers will forever be held and paid as high value workers
16. Our gatherings will once again be full, robust, safe
17. An appreciation for the past with fewer memory boxes
18. Meeting friends anywhere casually and easily
19. Every darn day - good or bad - is the gift

Peace, safety, good health to all. 

Two Weddings and a Funeral

The first wedding was in early March - when we were moving freely about the land, yet the yellow caution flags were beginning to wave.

The couple moved ahead with their original plans and we found ourselves in place at the wedding venue at the appointed time.  All the elements one would expect at a wedding were also in place creating a easy, albeit tenuous, sensory backdrop:  little flower girls swooshing about in layered, cream colored dresses, sweet scents from floral bouquets, burbling water cascading over a decorative fountain's edge, the rapid, soft click, click, click of the photographer's camera.

The fresh feel of approaching Spring filled the plant dense venue.  Missing were the usual hugs, kisses, and handshakes that I, as a wedding officiant, would normally share with the couple and their folks. At that point, physical touch was a no-no but "social distancing" wasn't in our word bank yet.  

The ceremony included a reflection on how luck played a significant role in this couple finding and dating each other and eventually arriving at marriage.  Reading these sentiments written months before felt a little unbalanced given how this earlier, carefree certainty seemed blissfully naive in a COVID-19 world.

Yet, the moment contained all the precious joy and, a bit of relief, as two lovers made their marriage promises to each other as planned.  

In the hours and days that followed, it was becoming all too clear that this wedding ceremony would be my last for a while as a Journeys of the Heart officiant.

Days after the wedding, I found myself and my 92 year-old dad in a hospital emergency room watching my 93 year-old mother's health collapsing as we sat vigil by her side.  Hours later, she died.  

The mental ping pong of accepting the fact that her body could fight no more, comforting my dad's (and my own) fear and grief, communicating with siblings and children near and far, digesting how we arrived at this crushing moment, making mental calculations about the many surfaces we were touching in an ER environment, and perpetually hand sanitizing, proved to be a tsunami of circumstances teetering on unbearable. 

Marvel Comics has it all wrong with their hyperbolic imaginings of who is a superhero; the health care professionals in service to all three of us that evening earned that top billing then and every single day before and after.  

When we mortals are falling apart under the weight of an emotional onslaught such as a loved one dying, the EMTs, ER clerks, nurses, and docs are the voices of calm, reason, rational thought, and compassion. Layer on the current pandemic, the woeful lack of needed supplies, and a host of other larger than life scenarios and it becomes incomprehensible how they rise up and do this work every day.

They are human marvels. 

A few days later a second wedding came to the fore.

photo credit: Christian Nachtrieb

My daughter Alison's college roommate had a late April wedding planned in upstate New York. Alison is one of two maids of honor. The couple, Bridget and John, live in Boston and, like so many other engaged couples, they postponed the big celebration and took matters into their own hands as a pandemic encroached on normal life.  

On a clear, bright, breezy early spring afternoon, the couple decided to be wed, at a city park, with a couple of local friends surrounding them in a social distancing tableau. Out of town family and other close friends watched via Instagram Live. 

Dressed in wedding finery, with flutes of prosecco in hand, those family and friends  dialed in from across the miles and oceans to the precious, homemade moment. Bridget's mom even made a tiered wedding cake to celebrate, albeit from PA.  

The sweetness that emerged from this pared down, full-hearted ceremony was yet another reminder of how the power of love and the capacity for joy conquers.   

Days later, my mom's funeral took place.  It was a simple, private Mass arranged for my immediate family as the limitations on churches and funeral homes became increasingly stringent. (Thankfully Mass was live streamed so family and friends out of town and down the street could watch.) 

And on another warm, sunny, springtime day we closed the door to outside world issues and focused on the woman who gave our lucky family her finest work as mother, wife, grandmother, and great-grandmother.  We gave Love its due because it is our fuel and was never to be denied.   

We humans have an incredible capacity to hold love, sorrow, fear, gratitude, jealousy, compassion, wonder, grief simultaneously. It isn't the easiest juggling act but it is essential.   As long as we can keep some balance, remembering to switch off our rudder control from one powerful emotion to another, we have a shot at sanity.  And, a little peace. 

This moment is the one we have.  The only thing certain about the ones to follow is that they are unknown.   

What a world.