The TRUTH About Motherhood

Category: News

Michael Brown’s Murder is the Result of Racial Profiling, Fear & Loathing in Ferguson
I have not touched the topic of Ferguson, Missouri and Michael Brown yet because I’ve been struggling with my own demons this week triggered by the suicide of Robin Williams but my fog is lifting and I am sick at what is happening in the world. I’ve spent the last 24 hours pouring over footage and articles and I am flabbergasted at what is happening in our country in this day and age.
I can’t pretend to know what it means to be an African American in this country. I can only imagine and empathize from knowing what it is to be a Latino. I also don’t know exactly what it is to live under the umbrella and protection of white privilege. I grew up a Latina woman in an African American urban neighborhood. I was not afraid but I was also raised that people are people, regardless of their color of skin, race, religion, sex or orientation. I guess that might be a fact those of us who are in the minority are taught and more readily accept because we don’t enjoy the privilege of ignorance. We’ve felt the wrath of hate and the shame of difference and so we tend to have a greater tolerance for humanity. We know what racism feels like.
On Saturday, police officer, Darren Wilson, in Ferguson, Missouri shot and killed an 18-year-old unarmed young man named Michael Brown. Michael Brown was identified as a primary suspect in a strong-arm robbery of a box of cigars moments before he was shot to death. Apparently, allegedly stealing a box of Swisher Sweets is punishable by death here in the United States. The cop allegedly reached his hand out of his car and grabbed Michael Brown by the neck and that is what initiated the altercation. What ensued next was unfathomable, he was chased and shot at and when he turned with his hands up in the air he was shot dead from 35 feet away. He was then left lying dead in the street for hours. Why? As a warning to others? On the other hand, if you got accused for some reason and you can’t attend your hearing, you must first know all the unacceptable reasons for failure to appear in court so you can determine if ever your excuse is valid.
The next night after a vigil in his honor, a peaceful protest assembled. The people of Ferguson, the world, want answers and justice. Michael Brown’s mother deserves answers. Yet, they are not even allowed to mourn and protest his death. The cops shot flares into the sky. When the crowd was not moved to disburse, flares were shot at the ground in the direction of the crowd. This is when the peaceful demonstration turned to riots. An emotionally charged group of people who were in the clutches of fear and sadness needed to protect themselves, this has escalated to rage.
By Wednesday things went from bad to worse, many of the major networks were not airing live coverage of anything. Journalists on the scene were being rounded up, blocked from the town and arrested.The I Am Mike Brown livestream via KARG Argus Radio allowed viewers to watch as police fired rubber bullets into crowds of unarmed citizens and advanced on peaceful demonstrators. Police demanded that the reporters turn off their cameras. Crowds were seen standing in the street with their hands above their heads as police fired tear gas and rubber bullets at them. There was no provocation and the police continued firing even as the crowd retreated into their residential neighborhoods; obviously, not giving a damn who they hurt.
I don’t know what it is about brown and black skin that strikes fear into the hearts of some people. Maybe it’s the guilt from years of ancestors beating entire races down and treating them like subhumans, maybe it’s fear of karma ( what goes around comes around) or maybe it’s just a general lack of compassion and blind ignorance.
The world is a crazy place and we come in every color and flavor of the rainbow, only when your skin is brown or black, you can’t hide it. You can’t blend in. There it is daring people not to notice.
I was not on the streets of Ferguson last Saturday night. I did not witness this tragedy firsthand and I thank God for that because I don’t think that my humanity could ever recover from witnessing that kind of brutality but I do have my own experience with racial profiling and the cops.
Here was my situation and the sad part is that it wasn’t unique or even special; a cop saw a car full of Latinos. He pulled them over; we were never given a reason why. It was myself, the guy I was dating and couple of our friends. They were driving me home before my midnight curfew. It was about 11:45 pm on a summer, Saturday night. I was 18. It was my first experience with racism and racial profiling.
When we were pulled over, I began to freak out because I knew missing my curfew was not an option. I asked my date to please ask the officer why we were being stopped. I knew that any delay would make me late and my parents were very strict.
This guy, a clean-cut young man who had served in the military and was college-educated, very politely asked, “Officer, can I please ask why we’re being stopped?” To which the officer told him to step out of the car and arrested him for resisting arrest after pushing him around and slamming him into the door of the car.
Meanwhile, his partner was asking me what my name was. I told him and he spelled my name Cruise, Crewes, Crews and truly acted as if these boys were kidnapping me or holding me against my will. Once we clarified that I, Debi CRUZ, was in fact, willingly in the vehicle his entire demeanor changed. The cop went from polite and kind to me to cruel and short, as if I had done something wrong simply by being Latina.
One of the other guys with us asked if he could take the car to drive me home so I wouldn’t miss my curfew to which the cop responded, “ NOPE! She can walk home for all I care.” Then they put my date in the back of the squad car and towed his car to impound as we all silently watched, not daring to ask another question for fear we too would be put in jail or worse for speaking.
Our friends walked me home silently in the dark, we all felt dirty and ashamed because we did nothing because we were too afraid to. This doesn’t seem like a big deal, especially in light of what happened to Michael Brown but it is an all too common occurrence and it shouldn’t be. Cops are human and officers of the law meant to serve and protect its citizens but does that only apply to certain citizens with Lily-white skin and preapproved accents? The problem is that the lines are so blurred; breathing too loudly could be construed by the wrong officer as resistance.
But the thing that I can identify with the most is a mother has lost her child. Michael Brown is dead and no amount of rioting or looting or saying I’m sorry is going to change that fact. The truth is that we don’t know exactly what happened in those last moments; what was said or done, only the offending officer and Michael Brown know that secret but we do know that nothing warrants shooting an unarmed child in the street like a rabid dog…no matter the color of his skin.
I feel like the world has gone completely backwards and spun right off it’s axis this week. I am horrified by the behavior and the things people are saying. I am disgusted by the lack of human compassion. Be good to one another.
What is going through your mind this week with the circumstances surrounding Michael Brown and Ferguson, Missouri?

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2014/08/15
I am Robin Williams

As I sit here, I am saddened no I am devastated by the suicide of Robin Williams. I am, however, not shocked. I want to scream and cry and I am mad. Pissed off that this f*cking disease has stolen another brilliant mind from this world. He was a genius, with eyes tinged with sadness who always made everyone else around him happy. We shared something in common, Robin Williams and myself, aside from being from Chicago, a bipolar diagnosis.
I don’t talk about it often because I am so much more than a diagnosis. It does not define me. But, I take this personally. It’s a punch to the gut because many of us who suffer from this diagnosis know that suicide is a very real outcome for our lives. It’s not so much a matter of will he or won’t he kill himself, it’s more of a when will he just not be able to bear the burden any longer because even though our pain threshold is higher than most, even we have a limit to the torture we can endure.
I’ve never suffered from an official diagnosis of severe depression, but I have spent a lifetime suffering from a diagnosis of bipolar 1 which for me has mostly meant teetering between mania and extreme irritability. People love you when you are manic because you are the life of the party. You are fun and funny and everyone loves you.
But when you stay manic too long, you become irritable; irritable at the fact that you cannot calm down from your manic high, annoyed with yourself for being this person; for breathing. You begin to feel out of control and then you become angry and mean. You hate the world. You hate yourself. Then, just to add insult to injury, sometimes you fall from your vibrant mania heaven to the deepest, darkest pit of depression hell. You feel worthless and unworthy of the air you breathe.
I haven’t been “depressed” since my teen years. Like I said, I used to exist between manic and irritable. I’ve been non–episodic for 12 years. I’m 41. I was officially diagnosed when I was 27 but I had been exhibiting symptoms of bipolar from about the age of 15. At that time, I did frequently got depressed. I used to lay awake at night crying trying to figure out a way to disappear; to kill myself because living felt pointless and it hurt to feel that worthless. But the thought of breaking my mother’s heart was too much for me to bear so I held on.
When I was diagnosed with Bipolar, I wept with relief. I was so happy to have a name for this terrible demon that had literally turned my life upside down. When I was diagnosed, I was on the brink of losing everything but I was so manic that I did not care. I was drinking heavily to try to quiet my mind. I would wake up chipper and pleasant and happy-go-lucky and then it was like my engine got stuck, revved up and I just couldn’t stop and I was so tired of being “up” so then I drank myself into a stupor. When I was irritable, I was mean and biting with my words. A part of me wanted to alienate everyone and destroy anything that was good in my life because I didn’t feel like I deserved it when I was coming down. That’s the thing. It’s a shame spiral. You get manic and feel like the king of the world and then you come crashing down and feel unworthy of life and that’s when the demon creeps back in. Sometimes your meds quiet the demons, sometimes they can’t. But you choose to fight, every single day until you can’t anymore.
I am non-episodic but I know every day could be the day that I become manic. I know that every day could be the end of my life as I know it. I fight. I fight to stay here to be here because today, I know how wonderful it can be. Right now, I am living as close to normal as I’ve ever been.
Robin Williams was 63 years old, he fought his demons every day for all these years but today he was too beat down to fight back and we lost a comedic genius, a father, a husband, a friend. Today, I lost a fellow warrior. He has fallen and my heart is heavy. My thoughts and prayers are for those who loved him that he left behind, may they find the strength and courage to carry on. May he finally rest in peace.
Don’t let his death be meaningless. Don’t let one more person die in mental health vain. We need to be more open, remove the stigma and support one another. Bipolar disorder, manic depression, depression or whatever it is that you call your demon can only be defeated when all the warriors stand tall and share our stories and own our issues. I won’t lie, Robin Williams’ suicide scares me because it makes me feel vulnerable.
There should be no shame in being sick, there should only be compassion and understanding and HELP! Share your stories. Come out of your mental health closet. #RobinsWarriors If you need help, don’t be afraid to reach out. You are not alone. Don’t give up.
24-hour Hotline
National Suicide Prevention Helpline
1-800-273-8255 (1-800-273-TALK)
Do not go gently into that good night…rage until you can no longer draw breath into your body. Rage warriors, rage harder than you ever have before.
Robin Williams, there will never be another you and you will forever be missed.

2014/08/11
U.S. Immigration Policy has Obama Refusing Sanctuary and Sending Children to be Slaughtered
Immigration laws are very important to me. I am a Mexican-American Latina, first generation born in the United States. If my dad had not left all of his family and everything he knew behind, my story could be different. Immigration laws could mean life or death for me. I could have been one of the children at the border begging for sanctuary. I could have been one of the mothers begging for mercy for my child’s life, willing to give them up and do anything to save their life.
You see Central America is nothing like North America. The only thing they share in common is the “America”. Living in the United States compared to living in a third world country is the difference between living in a mansion in the country and living on the streets in the middle of a war zone. If you have never been to Central America, or been and never actually ventured outside of your touristy/ trendy hotel paradise, you have no idea of what the rest of the country looks like. It is very different than what you are seeing. Those kids at the airport or on the street who jump on your taxi trying to sell you chicles or wash your windshield, they are not doing this for some extra cash…this is survival. This is how they eat. It may be mildly annoying to you to be asked but it is humiliating to them to beg for your scraps but they do it to avoid doing something worse like being drug mules.
Recently, a group of 22 migrants, mostly women and children from Honduras and Guatemala, were taken into custody after crossing the Rio Grande near McAllen on June 18. The gangs that control much of the area’s human smuggling often tell women and children that they will be permitted to stay upon turning themselves in.
The United States is preparing to send 45,000 children back to Central American countries controlled by drug cartels that routinely torture, rape and kill children who refuse to work for them. So routinely, so often are children menaced that their families sent them away, alone, across thousands of miles on just the slimmest of hopes that they might be safe. U.S. law doesn’t allow them sanctuary.
These children have walked through some of the most hostile, hot, barren, dangerous country in the world with no one to care for them. Poor families scraped together all their money by doing God knows what and paid thousands of dollars because they are terrified of what might happen to their children if they stay in their home country and then entrusted those children to criminals ( Coyotes) praying they might arrive in America and be safe.
I have been to Mexico, not Cabos San Lucas, Alcapulco or Puerto Vallarta, but nearer to Mexico City; the state of Michoacan in Western Mexico. Never heard of it? Well, it is the front line for the drug cartel in Mexico, its overlords are the Knight’s Templar drug cartel. I won’t get into too many specifics because it’s dangerous to speak of these things but I will say this, I know what these children are running from. I’ve heard the stories. I know why these parents are sacrificing themselves and separation from the most precious thing in their life; they are doing it out of pure selfless love for their children. They are risking life and limb to get their children to the United States because the alternative is death. They are risking all of this under some false pretense that the people of the U.S. are compassionate and kind. They are mistaken. Our borders are more important than their children.
This is not the first time that the United States has closed its borders to refugees in need. In 1939, a German trans-Atlantic liner carrying 938 Jewish refugees was refused entrance into our country and forced to return to a soon to be Nazi overrun Europe. We didn’t care then and we don’t care now. Our lack of compassion may have lead directly to death for some of those passengers.
And now President Obama is promising the American people to send these children back to Central America. We live in an America that demands he do so because our right to close our borders and keep the “dirty, job stealing Mexicans” out is more important to us than granting sanctuary to small children whose lives will surely be in peril if they return. The people demanding that the borders be shut are probably some of the same people who are buying the drugs that are putting these children’s lives at risk.
We’ve heard their stories now. Stories of children who are publicly stripped naked and gang raped by drug syndicates to scare their parents. Stories of children maimed in order to convince their father to sell his property or join their cartel. Stories of children murdered to prove a point. By sending these children back, we are sending the message that we think these children are as disposable as the cartel thinks they are. I implore you, as human beings, to consider that this is about more than our borders. It is about children whose lives are at risk and I don’t mean by first world standards. These children have nothing and by turning them away, be assured we are sending them to be slaughtered like animals in the street.
So you tell me, is it safe to send these children back? Doesn’t sanctuary for children at risk of being murdered trump closing our borders and immigration reform?
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2014/07/08
Maya Angelou Phenomenal Woman
I am having a hard time gathering my thoughts about the news that Maya Angelou has died. She was a great poet, writer and woman. My heart is completely broken at hearing she has died. She was a writer who inspired many of us with her words and what they meant. But she was one of my heroes of a handful of great women. I don’t have many heroes in this world but she was it. Through her words, she made me believe that I could do and be anything. She made the world a better place.
She was a renowned poet, historian and civil rights advocate. She changed the world and the ripples of her life well spent will be felt for ages. She wouldn’t allow herself any limitations because she knew possibilities are endless if we got out of our own way. So many of us stop ourselves from doing, being, getting what we want out of life out of fear of failure. Not her, she stood there and held her ground.
When I read, I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings, it spoke to me. I felt her pain. Our situations were different but I could relate to the shame, worthlessness and insecurity that she felt as a young girl. She became my hero when I read that book because I knew she was brave and strong and amazing.
Life is hard and not kind to all of us. Some children need someone to make them believe in themselves either by words of encouragement or words of inspiration, she inspired me to go after my dreams. Her words were soft and hard and truthful and honest and she could see right through life’s bullshit.
I read Phenomenal Woman when I was battling eating disorders and she made me feel beautiful at a moment in my life when I felt so ugly and undeserving.
She wasn’t afraid to face the impossible to become who she wanted to be. She shattered all the limits. She reached millions with her words. She touched hearts and broadened minds and now she is gone and all of her words that I have read since childhood are flooding my mind all at once.
I want to sob because it feels like I lost a wise grandmother who had all the answers to the secrets of the universe. It’s an unexpected and overwhelming sense of loss. She may no longer be with us on this earth but the world was a better place for having her in it for 86 years and I , for one, will keep her spirit alive by sharing her words with my daughters.
Some of my favorite Maya quotes

“I’ve learned that people will forget what you said, people will forget what you did, but people will never forget how you made them feel.”

“You may not control all the events that happen to you, but you can decide not to be reduced by them.”

“My mission in life is not merely to survive, but to thrive; and to do so with some passion, some compassion, some humor, and some style.”

“We may encounter many defeats but we must not be defeated.”

“You are the sum total of everything you’ve ever seen, heard, eaten, smelled, been told, forgot – it’s all there. Everything influences each of us, and because of that I try to make sure that my experiences are positive.”

“One isn’t necessarily born with courage, but one is born with potential. Without courage, we cannot practice any other virtue with consistency. We can’t be kind, true, merciful, generous, or honest.”

“Never make someone a priority when all you are to them is an option.”

“Love recognizes no barriers. It jumps hurdles, leaps fences, penetrates walls to arrive at its destination full of hope.”

“Nothing can dim the light which shines from within.”

“When someone shows you who they are, believe them the first time.”

“Life is not measured by the number of breaths we take, but by the moments that take our breath away.”

“The race of man is suffering
And I can hear the moan,
‘Cause nobody,
But nobody
Can make it out here alone.”
“I want to thank you, Lord, for the life and all that’s in it,
Thank you for the day and for the hour, and the minute. “

“There is no greater agony than bearing an untold story inside you.”
“Try to be a rainbow in someone’s cloud.
“If we lose love and self respect for each other, this is how we finally die.”
~Maya Angelou
You will be missed in this world but your words will live on in our hearts forever. There will never be another Maya Angelou. They broke the mold with her. Rest in eternal peace, my hero.
Maya Angelou April 4, 1928 – May 28, 2014

2014/05/28
September 11th ~ A Mother’s Vulnerabilty Exposed
September 11th ~ Vulnerable. Like an open wound, that is how I would describe how I felt when I woke up this morning. There are instances in life that are so shocking, so painful and profound that you are stunned that they are actually even taking place. These are the events that your brain may willfully try to forget but you cannot because those same events are imprinted on your heart forever. We all have these moments. September 11, 2001 is one of those days. It is a day I will never forget.
I don’t want to write too much about September 11th this morning because I’ve written about it before. I just want to share with you this morning. This morning, I woke up and immediately remembered what day it was. Then I remembered what I was doing that beautiful day in September 12 years ago.
My husband was in Pennsylvania traveling for work and I was walking into my office at the small publishing house where I edited in North Carolina. I was 28 years old at 8:46 when I walked into work just in time to see the first plane hit the tower. I was stunned. All the air was sucked out of me. We sat in silence and then my first reaction was to call my husband. I desperately needed to hear his voice. I couldn’t reach him. The phones were down. I never felt so alone in my entire life. A nation full of people sharing a single event and I felt completely alone in my grief, my pain and my fear. I know that I wasn’t but pain is personal.

Today, 12 years later, I have everything. I have the Big Guy and we have been blessed with our two daughters. We have our health and are surrounded by love. Life has moved on in many ways for many people. We all fly again and we are learning to trust again. Our hearts are still heavy and cracked but no longer busted wide open. Only, maybe they are. 12 years later, I woke up on another gorgeous day in September and all it took was to hear sirens blaring past my neighborhood to send me into a full panic. My heart demanded that I not send the kids to school and I listened.
You see, though my brain has learned to deal with the pain of September 11^th, my heart is still fundamentally broken and it is still haunted by the grief that was there not so long ago. My heart would not allow my girls to leave my arms today. It felt like the right thing to do if not the logical one. I feel like we need to spend the day remembering those who were taken from us on that day, mourning their deaths, celebrating their lives and marking that moment in time. I think we need to stop and feel the full weight of our loss. This is how I process.
I explained to my girls why I was keeping them home and what today was. They are 6 and 8. They’ve learned about September 11^th in school but it’s not real to them; not the way it is real to all of us who witnessed that awful, horrible, heartbreaking day. They weren’t there that day when the entire world stood still and held its breath as terrorists put a gun to our united head. It was time. I showed them the video footage of the planes hitting the towers. We had a discussion. They now understand. There is reverence in our home today. We are happy to be alive. Blessed to be together and just a little nicer to one another.
You will not see me on social media today because I can not read the stories. My heart is too heavy with sadness from the stories of the past 12 years, instead I will be holding my children in my arms and thanking God that I am able to do so. Hug your children. Tell the people you love that they matter. Commit a random act of kindness.
Today, I kept my children home with me because I can. Some mothers were left childless on September 11th 2001 and for them, today I am silent. For them, I pray. For all the souls taken too soon, I will live completely, love fully and never take a single day for granted to honor their memory. I will never forget.

Please share your stories in the comments.
What were you doing on that morning of September 11th?
2013/09/11
Cory Monteith Dead by Lethal Overdose of Heroin and Alcohol
Cory Monteith’s death took me by surprise, so much so that I was pretty much shocked and I am having a difficult time getting it out of my head. There has been something that has been haunting me since Sunday morning when I woke to the news that Cory Monteith had died. I am deeply saddened by his death. I thought it was because he was so young and in the prime of his life but then I realized that it was something more. From the moment I heard of his death, knowing his history and that he has gone through substance abuse recovery, I feared the worst; a relapse. Unfortunately, I was right. Today the coroner’s report confirmed my fears, Cory Monteith died of a lethal overdose of alcohol and heroin. (more…)
2013/07/16
Prayers for the Krim Family
This has been an awful week and now the Krim children have been brutally murdered by their nanny. I am emotionally and physically spent. The events of the week have usurped me of all that I had to offer. I had planned on writing something light and funny today but his week was so devastating that I had not one but two Throat Punches and, to be honest, I could have had a dozen. There is just so much horror in reality these days. I read about no less than 5 children who were killed this week or whose bodies were found and it scares me to death, and it makes me afraid to raise my children in this world.
The latest tragedy, as many of you have heard, is that of the Krim family.
By all accounts, Marina and Kevin Krim were living the dream. Good marriage, good life, and great kids and then something went terribly wrong. A horrible person did a terrible thing that has changed the Krim family forever. My heart is breaking for these parents. I can not even write words to convey what I am feeling for them. I’m not rehashing the gory details of what happened to the Krim family last night. That is not what this is about. What this is about is the fact that there are so many parents losing their children, in so many different ways. Children are killing children and children are being murdered by complete strangers and even by loved ones. We never know who we can trust. But as parents, we do the absolute best we can for our children. We love them and we hope they grow up. And we pray that they turn out okay.
I wrote this week’s Throat Punch Thursday post about what happened to Autumn Pasquale at the hands of Dante and Justin Robinson. I expressed my sorrow at what had happened to this child, my sympathy for the mother of the boys who committed the crime and empathy for what she had to do in choosing to do the right thing and turn her boys in. I certainly think the boys deserve to be punished. They killed someone’s child and I expressed that very openly in my post and then I read the Facebook comments. I was shocked and appalled at how people were reacting. In a moment in time when two sets of parents had lost their children, when the world needed to show compassion and sympathy, the comment section showed blind hatred, judgment and racism and,quite frankly, ignorance and now I read that people are speculating and judging the Krim family in their darkest hour.
People are making these same blind judgements with half the facts and little to no compassion in the Krim case. Leave them alone. Pray for them. They are in pain. These parents lost their children. Life has been irrevocably altered and shattered for the Krim family. The grief of losing a child is deadly. It makes you want to stop. It makes you want to die with them. You are not in your right mind. You are forced to grasp at the only shred of normalcy that you can find because you will never be normal again. You are now damaged and your heart will forever be wounded beyond repair. It doesn’t matter how or when you lost your child, this wound is the same. You are broken. So, o all the assholes out there saying..”check out your nannies more thoroughly”, “Spend more time with your kids” “be a better parent.” I say, Shut the fuck up to those people! Because anything any one of you are thinking of blaming on these parents of these children, they have already thought it. They have already tried to find reason in this horrible thing, where there is absolutely none. They did the best they could. We can not protect our children from every single thing or crazy person that the world throws at us. Try as we may and believe me we all try. This could have happened to any of us. We can not control the world.
So tonight, I am not asking for throat punches or revenge or punishment or a pound of flesh. I am asking for prayers for parents, for peace in their heart for the courage to carry on when no parent should have to. Pray that their children’s souls are at rest. Pray for the family left behind to suffer the wound, that they may someday once again know peace in their hearts. Pray for a better world to raise your own children and pray for the strength to know better than to pass judgment on parents who are in so much pain that they can barely breathe.
Tonight, my prayers are being lifted up in the name of the Krim family and if you are of the praying kind, I hope that yours are too.
photo credit: ulisse albiati via photopin cc
2012/10/26
It doesn’t matter if You are an Ass or an Elephant, this Election is about Humans
This election is a game changer. I’ve been sucked in, once again. I never think of myself as overly political. Yes, I am technically a political scientist. That is what one of the degrees in my office says anyways. I own it. But I’ve tried to stay out of it this election season but when others begin to attack me for my beliefs solely for my stance on an issue and then try to place blame on my suspected political affiliation, I take offense especially when the case in point had nothing to do with political affiliation and everything to do with calling bullshit on something that I found to be disingenuous. I don’t appreciate being called names and having my beliefs questioned simply because someone suspects I’m a democrat. I take offense because I don’t practice politics with blind, unfounded hate. There is no you and I. There is only “WE”, we the people.
There was a point in time where I loved absolutely everything about politics and history and the United States and law, but that was a lifetime ago. There was also a time that I was a Republican and almost fainted when I got to shake the hand of of George H.W. Bush at my campus rally. he was no Bill Clinton but hey, we can’t all be that damn charming. Yes, that was many moons ago, as well. But that is not who I am anymore.
Today, I am a grown up. I have children, responsibilities, parents who are retired, a mortgage and a quality of life. I can’t play fast and loose with my future. Today, I know that life is not black or white but various shades of gray ( maybe 50 or so). When I vote in an election or choose a candidate to support, I don’t vote straight democrat or republican because I am not blind, deaf and dumb.
I do not live in a bubble. I vote on the issues. I vote for the candidate who is going to make the world, at the very least, this country, a better place for my daughters to grow up in. I vote for the person whose ideology most closely resembles my own and who has the capability to make the changes in the world that I want to see. I vote issues and if the person who agrees with my issues happens to be charismatic, that’s a bonus.
I want a doer not a talker. I want a person of integrity and action. I want someone who is accountable to their constituents. I want someone who understands what an honor and privilege it is that we are bestowing upon him/her.I want someone who respects and values women and our control over our own bodies. I want someone who doesn’t think of women as property or cattle. I want someone who treats everyone fairly regardless of class, sex, religion or color of skin. I want someone who only sees red, white and blue and not just green.
I want someone who understands the American people, after all government is supposed to be for the people and by the people. I think a lot of people have forgotten that. We have the right and privilege of electing these people. They are our representatives. Their job is to make our government reflect our wants and needs, not the other way around. People seem to have forgotten that. Government is not for big business. That may be who funds campaigns but that is not who votes them in. That, my friends, is you and I.
An election is the chance for you and I to Change the world
My point is that we are voting for people who we hope can fix the issues that are important to us. We are voting for humans not mastheads.I generally try not to be outrageously political on my site, but sometimes you have to take a stand for what’s right. Do what makes you happy. But I become a little bit dismayed when I see politics being played so blatantly only for votes, where there is no substance, no relevance and deceptions are being transpired. A presidential election should not be a beauty contest or a popularity contest, a presidential election should be considered with the weight and gravity that it holds. An election is a chance to change the world and the person we vote for is the person we trust to make that happen; to represent us, to fight for us, to protect our basic rights. The person we vote for in this election needs to be able to truly identify with ‘we the people’.
I don’t understand how some people can be so blindly partisan that the minute you mention one candidate or the other, walls go up, insults are hurled and grown adults become as undignified and rude as overtired, tantruming children in the toy aisle.
Please vote in this election, it could change all of our lives
I know who I am voting for this November. It’s the same man I helped put into office four years ago. The same man who changed history. The man who is making a difference for the better. President Obama was handed a mess when he took office and he’s been working his ass off to clean it up. He’s like a mother with several children under the age of 6, trying to keep everyone satisfied, fed and clean while trying to make ends meet and maintain a successful relationship with the people around him on little to no sleep. He’s doing his best and it’s making a difference. Slow and steady wins the race, my friends.Fast talking and promises with no merit mean nothing.
Please vote wisely. I don’t care who you vote for this election as long as you know the issues and choose the candidate that you feel can truly do the most good for our country, no matter if he happens to be an ass or an elephant.
God Bless you and God Bless America
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2012/09/06
September 11, 2001~ The Day the World Stood Still
I resolved not to write about September 11, 2001, that fateful day. I didn’t feel that I needed to be reminded of the events that transpired on September 11, 2001 because, in all reality, I have never forgotten them. I never will. I see it every day in the eyes of my husband and the sweet faces of my daughters.
September 11, 2001 is the day that the world stood still for all of the collective United States.
We held our breath and helplessly watched as our lives were tragically changed forever. Most of us remember exactly where we were and what we were doing on that infamous morning, when the plane hit the north tower, at 8:47 am. That moment is seared into my brain like a branded battle scar. The myriad of
Most of us remember exactly where we were and what we were doing on that infamous morning, when the plane hit the north tower, at 8:47 am. That moment is seared into my brain like a branded battle scar. The myriad of emotions that overwhelmed me in that exact moment in time will be with me always. It can’t be forgotten. I can still feel the sickness in the pit of stomach eating at my soul, as I type this.

No, I wasn’t going to write about September 11, 2001 but I am thankful for my husband that I was afraid I might have lost that morning, my daughters who have been born since that day, for my friends in New York who made it through that day with their lives and survived the devastation that losing their friends, family members and loved ones brought in those following days.
I am commemorating those unsuspecting people who lost their lives, the heroes who at the cost of their own lives kept going into the collapsing buildings to save others and those of us who have chosen not to be victims of that day but who joined together as a nation to overcome the heinous crimes inflicted upon us by a group of cowardice monsters.
My thoughts and prayers are with all of those families who lost someone that day and for the rest of us who survived it and must live with the pain and loss that September 11, 2001, has left in its wake. This is my story, we all have one.
September 11, 2001 they ran in when everyone else ran out
I can very clearly remember the bright blue morning sky of September 11, 2001, as if it were yesterday. We were living in North Carolina, it was 2 weeks before my 29th birthday. We had only recently celebrated our 2nd wedding anniversary. My husband was away on business in Pennsylvania.
Per usual, I went to work, at a small publishing house, and the moment I walked in the door my editor silently motioned me over to the television to see what was happening. There we stood paralyzed, watching in shock and horror at the footage being shown on the television… of what was happening. Could this be real?
It couldn’t be real. It looked like some horrible action movie but it was live TV. It was the footage of flight 11 hitting the first tower. I remember my heart falling to the floor as I realized my husband was away from me on business. I couldn’t make sense of it. It was all happening so fast. We were being attacked on our own soil.
My husband, the other half to my whole, was in Pennsylvania, much too close to where everything was taking place. I tried to call him but all the phone lines to the east coast were jammed from terrified loved ones trying to reach their families in New York.
I distinctly remember the newscaster making the announcement and showing the footage of the south tower being hit by flight 175, as I was still trying to absorb the north tower being hit. Seeing the dark billowy puffs of smoke escaping from the rubble and the heartbreak of seeing the frightened and desperate people jump from the building, it was all I could do not to start driving in the general direction of where my husband was. All I wanted to do was hear my husband’s voice. I needed to know he was safe.
I couldn’t imagine the fear and thoughts going through the jumpers minds as they were forced to make that decision or the pain and sheer fright they must have felt being trapped in the collapsing towers. It must have felt like the world was ending. In many ways, it was.
Just imagine minding your business, doing your work and your entire life being snatched away. Your future, no longer an option. Knowing that you would never hold your baby, kiss your husband goodbye or tell them that you love them.
Then they made the announcement on the news that Flight 77 crashed into the western side of the Pentagon. I held my breath once more and through tear filled eyes, continuously dialed my husband’s number on the cell phone. I had to reach him, somehow.
September 11,2001; A Day that will live in Infamy
Then the announcement that Flight 93 went down very near where my husband was at on business. I dialed and dialed ( as I know many people were trying to do ) until my fingers were cramping from pushing the buttons. But the phone lines were all down due to what was happening and all the calls trying to be made by scared families trying to reach their loved ones, just like me. Everyone was trying to make sure that their loved one was not in or near the buildings hit. We all just wanted to hear the voice, to have the reassurance that our loved one was safe. I remember being there at work, watching helplessly as my world was collapsing. An entire generation of American people lost our safety and security, our trust and innocence. We thought we were untouchable on our own soil but the events that transpired on September 11, 2001 made us realize just how vulnerable we were. I stayed at work that very long day with my boss because I was 10 hours away from my nearest relative and going home to our empty apartment waiting for him to call me meant sitting there alone with my thoughts…with my fears.
My husband was there…nearer to the situation than I would ever want. I thank God every day that he wasn’t in New York that morning. Eventually, he called me. It seemed an eternity waiting for that call to come. I remember thinking..this is it..this is the day my world could come to a screeching halt. It did in a way. My life was changed forever, as were the lives of every American. I will never feel safe again. Not completely.
Every time someone I love gets on a plane, I hold my breath until they land safely. I’ve not been on a plane since this happened and I am sure that when I do, there will be an inordinate amount of anxiety. When the phone call finally came that my husband was OK, hearing his voice on the other end was one of the greatest moments of relief that I have ever experienced in my life. I had never been so thankful for my blessings and for the simple things such as my husband’s smile across a crowded room, his laughter ringing out at the most inappropriate times or just the way he says my name. I will never take those things for granted ever again.
Osama Bin Laden is dead and I’m glad. I won’t make apologies for being glad that he is gone. I feel that we are all a little freer from the tyranny of terrorism that we have been under for the past 10 years. My heart still aches for all the wives who lost their husbands, children who lost their parents, parents who lost their children and anyone who lost a loved one, a friend, a co-worker or even just someone who smiled at you on the street every day or as you passed in the building.
Their smiles, voices, laughter, and existence will be missed and felt by many. Their ripple is great and every moment is more precious to me now because I know that any moment can be the last. I now know the unconditional love that a parent feels for a child, I know the unbreakable path between a couple, so close that you don’t know where one begins and the other ends, and I can imagine the unfulfillable void and pain that losing that would cause.
I’ve been holding on to these feelings for a long time. I’ve had them wrapped up tight in a small little box, hidden away far back in the recesses of my soul because I didn’t want to think about how vulnerable we ~~were~~ are. I was afraid that if I allowed myself to feel those feelings, it might be too much. I was dreading today because I wasn’t ready to dig that box out and open it up. But we owe it to those we lost, the mothers, fathers, friends, daughters, sons, husbands, wives, sisters, brothers, the heroes who ran in when everyone was running out on September 11, 2001 to #NeverForget!
September 11,2001; I will #NeverForget

2011/09/11
Osama Bin Laden Dead~Finally~We can exhale
I am sitting here in shock and disbelief. I am exhilarated at the news that Osama bin Laden is finally dead. Waiting for the president to make the official announcement that Osama Bin Laden has finally been killed, I am feeling many different emotions. Accompanying the satisfaction of knowing that one of the world’s most frightening monsters is dead, I am also overwhelmed with a deep sense of sorrow and remembrance. I have a lump in my throat and tears streaming from my eyes.
I can very clearly remember the morning of September 11, 2001 as if it were yesterday. We were living in North Carolina and my husband was away on business in Allentown Pennsylvania. I was at work, at a small publishing house,when my boss called me over to the television to see what was happening. We were both in shock of what we were seeing on the television… of what was happening. It looked like some horrible action movie but it was live TV.It was the footage of the first tower being hit. I remember my heart falling to the floor. I couldn’t make sense of it. It was all happening so fast. We were being attacked on our own soil. MY HUSBAND was in Pennsylvania, much too close to where everything was taking place. I remember the newscasters making the announcement, as I was still trying to absorb the tower being hit. Seeing the dark billowy puffs of smoke escaping from the rubble and the heartbreak of seeing the people jump from the building. All I wanted to do was hear my husband’s voice. To know that he was OK.I couldn’t imagine the fear and thoughts going through the jumpers minds as they had to make that decision. Or the pain they must have felt being trapped in the collapsing towers. Minding your business, doing your work and your entire life just being snatched away like that. Your future, no longer an option. Moms and Dads never being able to see their children again. Then they made the announcement on the news that the plane had went down in Pennsylvania.
The plane went down very near where my husband was working. I called and called ( as I know many people were trying to do ) but the phone lines were all down due to what was happening and all the calls trying to be made. Everyone was trying to make sure that their loved one was not in the building or in any danger.I remember being there at work, watching helplessly as my world was collapsing. I stayed at work with my boss because I was 10 hours away from my nearest relative and going home meant sitting there alone. My husband was there…nearer to the catastrophe than I would ever want. I thank God that he wasn’t in New York and eventually, he called me. It seemed like forever waiting for that call to come. I remember thinking..this is it..this is the day my world could come to a screeching halt.It did in a way. My life was changed forever. I will never feel safe again.Not completely. Every time someone I love gets on a plane, I hold my breath until they land safely. I’ve not been on a plane since this happened and I am sure that when I do, I will need to be medicated for anxiety. The phone call finally came that my husband was OK. Hearing his voice was one of the greatest moments of relief that I have ever experienced in my life.
Osama Bin Laden is dead and I am glad. I feel that we are all a little freer from the tyranny of terrorism that we have been under for the past 10 years. My heart still aches for all the wives who lost their husbands and children who lost their parents, parents who lost their children and anyone who lost a loved one. Every moment is more precious to me now because I know that any moment can be the last. I’ve been holding on to these feelings for a long time. I’ve had them wrapped up tight in a small little box, hidden away far back in the corner because I didn’t want to think about how vulnerable we ~~were~~ are. I was afraid that if I allowed myself to feel those feelings, it might be too much. But tonight I cry, tears of joy that we no longer have to fear the monster and tears of sadness for all the wonderful people that I’ll never know because the monster took them away. I hope that this small victory can bring some peace to the families whose loved ones didn’t make it home that day in September.
2011/05/02