Day of Remembrance

On September 11, 2001, just before 9am I returned home from dropping off Michaela at preschool to spend the day with Michael who had the day off for a medical appointment. I decided to take a “mental health” day off from my job at the U.S. Holocaust Memorial Museum in Washington, D.C. As we made our plans for the day, I received a call from a close friend saying “Girl! A plane just flew into one of the towers of the World Trade Center!” With JFK and LaGuardia airports nearby, I thought perhaps something had happened to the pilot or maybe there was rain or bad fog. I turned on the news in time to see a replay of the first plane hitting the South Tower. The news reporters were saying that these were hijackings!! What?? Terrorist? This can’t be possible. That only happens in other countries! Surely there must be a more logical explanation, I thought.  In disbelief and still very confused, I sat in stunned silence as the second plane crashed into the second Tower. What in the world??  New York City?? That’s so far away—it never dawned on me that it could happen HERE. For the next 30 minutes or so, we watched the news coverage, feeling helpless and kind of numb. Then the Pentagon was hit just 35 miles from our house. NO. This can NOT be happening. My mother!! She’s on the VRE train to work near the U.S. Capitol building—it goes UNDER the Capitol!! I was supposed to be on it with her. Oh God why isn’t she answering her phone?? She never answers that damn phone. Why did she even bother to get it anyway? This is really happening. God please spare these lives. Please don’t let them hit the Capitol or the White House. This is the most powerful city in the NATION! I am part of that City. I know so many people in it. Please God keep them safe!! A plane goes down in a field in Pennsylvania!! Why is this happening?  The South Tower collapses, then the North Tower. Images of people jumping from windows, running in the streets, debris in the air, smoke so thick it all looks like a special-effects movie. I’m crying and more afraid than I’ve ever been.

Suddenly I realize how sheltered I was growing up. I have lived in the same town since I was 7 years old, a suburb of Washington, D.C., that borders a U.S. Military base, in a gated-community, in a house built by my father, a man that NOBODY dared cross, where we didn’t ever have to worry about locking our doors. MY world had always been safe and now, for the first time in my 30 years, I was terrified. People were desperate to contact their loved ones, to get to whatever safe place they thought would even BE safe; to get their children from their schools. Oh God…MICHAELA! She’s only a few minutes away, should I go get her? My first instinct is to want my baby within an arm’s reach but as the reality of what was happening in my suddenly unsafe world began to hit me, I decided that she was exactly where she needed to be. The teachers and staff at her preschool were top-notch—I should know, I worked there too, on my days off from the Museum. I knew they would keep my favorite little people safe, occupied and blissfully ignorant to the ugly horrors going on in our country today. The whole day I spent literally glued to Mike’s side. I was afraid for him to be out of my sight. He went with me to pick up our baby that afternoon, never before had I been so relieved to see that beautiful smiling face. Weeks went by before I allowed the news to be on in our house when Michaela was home. She was only 4 years old. How do you explain those horrific images that were being aired over and over and over on the news to a 4-year old? I wanted her to remain innocent, happy and completely unaware of what had happened on that day for as long as possible.  I wanted her world to remain as safe as it had always been, with her Papa and her Daddy ensuring protection at all times, as they always promised us they would.

The following spring, when Michaela was then 5 years old and graduating from Pre-K, I was given the most wonderful laminated memory book that contained photos and dated artwork that she had done throughout the 2001-2002 school year in observance of different holidays, Arbor Day, classmates’ birthdays. I opened to the first page and my heart sank for a moment at seeing the finger painting “Hand-Picked Apples” dated “Sept. 11, 2001.” Suddenly, happy, proud tears flowed like a river. She had had a happy day that fateful day. All the reasons I had chosen to leave her at preschool that day were validated in this finger painting. She HAD been safe, unaware, and the most difficult part of her day had probably been deciding what color paint to use.

This painting reminds me that even in the most horrific events of evil, sadness, destruction, godlessness, fear and grief that purity and good still existed in my world on September 11, 2001. 

Growing up With Adam Walsh

Growing up With Adam Walsh
On Tuesday, December 16, 2008, after nearly three decades, the unsolved murder of Adam Walsh was finally closed. Unfortunately, the person responsible for Adam’s fate died in prison 10 years ago on unrelated charges. I was struck silent by the televised news report—choking back tears. While I was relieved, I turned within myself to think about why this was hitting me so close to home. When John and Revé Walsh appeared the next morning on NBC’s “The Today Show,” my daughter saw me crying and asked who Adam Walsh was. Then it all came down on me at once—sending me into a whirlwind of memories and sadness. I explained that in 1981, a 6-year-old little boy was abducted from a Sears department store while he was shopping with his mother. Several weeks later his severed head was found in a canal over 100 miles away from where he was last seen—his body was never found and the case had gone unsolved. Neither she nor my husband understood my emotional reaction, though, since there are thousands of kids that get abducted and murdered every year—so why was I crying about this little boy who died 27 years ago?

Adam was only a few years younger than I was, but at the age of 10 when this happened, I learned just how lucky I was. Like Adam, I too had been abducted when I was five years old—in broad daylight—when I was playing outside our apartment building where my mother was ironing out on the balcony. The phone rang and in the few seconds it took to step inside the door to reach the phone, I was gone. While not sharing the details of my own ordeal, I will say that fortunately for my parents, I was returned a short time later, unharmed and honestly oblivious to the many horrific “what ifs.” I was able to show the police and my parents exactly where I’d been, what we’d done, and give a pretty detailed description of my abductor and his vehicle. Unfortunately, the canvassing did not yield an arrest and he was never found.

When Adam’s story was turned into a television movie a couple of years after his death, I learned more of the details about his abduction and murder, as I vividly remember watching the movie with my mother. It was the first time I ever really heard of the awful things that can happen to children when they go missing. I remember thinking how much John Walsh must have loved his son. Instead of burying his pain and grief, he, along with his wife, used it as a driving force to bring to light the thousands upon thousands of families who were going through the same horrible experiences of not knowing where their children were. He quickly became an advocate for these missing children and their families by lobbying Congress to pass the Missing Children Act of 1982 which led to the creation of the FBI’s National Crime Information Center (NCIC) database. He didn’t just stop there either. He then challenged them to pass the Missing Children's Assistance Act of 1984 which established the National Center for Missing and Exploited Children. He later went on to become the host of the popular “America’s Most Wanted” show on the Fox network. My father was a pretty devoted viewer back in the 80s & 90s, and each week I would see John Walsh and think about his loss and wonder how he must still be feeling on the inside--not knowing who murdered his son. I’d think of Adam on those days and pray I’d never know that kind of pain.

When I became a mother, my awareness was instinctively on high-alert when it came to my daughter’s safety. But as most parents do, I got my scare of a lifetime. When she was about 2 years old, we made a 5-minute trip into a department store to exchange an outfit for her and I didn’t feel like dragging her heavy stroller out of the car for such a quick errand. Inside the store, she was at my feet, playing in the center of the circular clothing rack that I was looking through for her size…and in less than five seconds, she was gone. It was the most terrifying 2 minutes of my life—but she’d wandered about 15 feet away to the restroom entrances to try and use the water fountain, as that was always a stop we made when visiting that store. I thought of Adam that day…and thanked God that my baby was safe.

I became vigilant not only about my own child’s safety, but about the children of complete strangers I’d come across in my daily travels too. I’d roll down my window at stop lights and fuss at parents for not having their kids properly restrained in seatbelts or car seats. I angrily stopped the mother who was parked beside me and had left her infant in the minivan while grocery shopping “because she was sleeping.” I’d get the attention of inattentive parents whose child was standing up in the seat of the shopping cart or who were wandering away in the store unnoticed. I was a one-woman safety patrol—and I didn’t care what people thought of it. I was doing my part to help make sure that those children were safe, even if their own parents were too stupid to do it themselves.

Before Adam’s murder, you couldn’t enter missing children information into FBI’s computer system. There were no pictures on milk cartons. There were no posters inside post offices or Wal-Mart stores or included in mass mailings that were delivered to 82 million U.S. homes per week as there have been for the last 23 years. Families of missing children were often required to wait 48 hours before police took the calls seriously. There truly was a silver lining in the dark clouds of the Walsh family’s loss.

It took me a couple of days of really thinking about Adam’s murder and the legacy he left in his father’s hands to fully grasp the impact his short life had on my own. In a way, Adam has always been a part of my life. He was a part of my childhood, my adolescent years, and my venture into parenthood. I cried tears of relief that the Walshes might finally have closure; tears of pride in what their loss inspired in others and in myself; tears of anger that they never got to look into the face of the animal who took their son from them; and finally tears for all the “Adams” of this world and their parents…who weren’t as fortunate as I was.

Goodbye, sweet Adam. May you truly now rest in peace.

Celebrating some "firsts"...

Considering I was up past 1am blogging the night before my new job, I'm gonna try and keep this short. (We'll see how THAT goes...LOL)

First day on the new job and I already feel at home. Big boss was out, immediate boss works out of home office in FL but we had a few great phone calls and are clicking immediately. My co-worker, who I will be spending most of my time working with, absolutely rocked. Down to earth, funny in a bitchy sort of way and so easy going that I temporarily forgot we were in our workplace. She actually blurted out the F-bomb on a few occasions and I nearly spit coffee all over my desk. We learned a little about each other on a personal level and found that she too, had reconciled with her ex-husband over the past year. It's rare to find that, so it was an instant connection that I know we'll enjoy sharing.

I'll be honest, after six months of being at home I got to know my laptop pretty damn well and spent hours chatting and catching up with old friends while searching for work almost each day. I have to admit, the anxiety rose last night when I thought about NOT being so internet-accessible anymore with the new job responsibilities. Imagine my surprise when I learned that they all use Instant Messenger at work! Since a few folks on our team are off-site and out-of-state, it's the simplest, fastest way to exchange information and they use it like it's a crack pipe! I've never worked anywhere that permitted that!! We always had to sneak it in. I set up a new screenname (NOT the one that references my love of Kahlua, of course) and immediately added my personal contacts too. So, anxieties in that regard, were squashed.

So FL boss calls me five minutes after I arrived and says "You ready to pack your bags? I'm bringing you down to Florida!" I thought she had dialed the wrong number. But yes, I'm taking my first-ever business trip in three weeks to sunny Tampa for a meeting with my boss and then our whole team is attending some training down there for the next two days. Boss says I can take an extra day if I like and fly back on Saturday instead of Friday--so you KNOW I said yes! In less than two hours my travel profile was setup with our travel agent and I received my hotel confirmation (http://www.chasehoteltampa.com/) and my choice flight itinerary. One of my oldest friends lives in the Tampa area so I know Friday night will find us either locked in my suite yammering on about the changes our lives have gone through since our January '08 cruise to Cozumel, or sweating out on the dancefloor at one of her favorite spots. Either way, I'm gonna live fast while I'm there since I missed not having a vacation this summer--so I'm really excited about this trip! I feel so GROWN all of a sudden! LOL

Not a first, but definitely a rare occasion since I moved back in with Mike, I arrived home to a hot meal, and completed homework. Michael had picked up Mini-me from my Mom's for me, ensured she had completed assignments so that she would be ready for our planned test-study session, and then cooked my favorite meal. I had hit the jackpot! I came in, stripped (celebrating my naked freedom) and hit the shower. I shared my day with my family (who actually paid attention) and then ate my meal in peace. Our study session left me proud that Mini-Me had nailed the details of "The Westward Expansion" in U.S. History and I'm confident that an A+ is on its way. Meanwhile, Mike had turned in for the night, so I tucked in my baby girl, climbed into bed with the laptop to check on my favorite bloggers and lo and behold:

My favorite blogger and personal friend Cocoa had announced today that he and his true love, BD, had reconciled after what seemed an ETERNITY to their friends and "true-romantic" followers!!!! When they broke up, I felt the same pain that I felt when my own true-love and I separated (and later divorced). I felt like it had happened to ME all over again! I prayed and prayed for their love to find its way to forgiveness and healing and at times I was probably really obvious in my near-begging Cocoa to reconsider his decision NOT to reconcile--but I had no shame in my game---I know soulmates when I see (read) them!! It worked for Mike and me, it could happen to THEM too!! I even subjected myself to watching "Bridges of Madison County" and "The Notebook" in my grief over their situation so I'd have a reasonable excuse (in Mike's eyes) to be bawling my eyes out!! ANYWAY--(sorry...this paragraph was supposed to be about THEM...not ME, right? LOL) my favorite couple is back together, united as a true family with their own Mini in tow. My heart is full tonight and as I close this post, I'm already putting my friends' new beginning at the top of my "things I am grateful for today list" in my prayers tonight. Congratulations Cocoa & BD!! Love you both!!

5th Grader Suspended For Wearing Anti-Obama T-Shirt

Blogger's note: This article was posted yesterday in a Yahoo group that I'm a member of. After expressing my opinion, backed with facts, another member shot back...I'd like your opionons here. :)

From MyFoxColorado Reports
An 11-year-old in Aurora, Colo., says his first amendment rights are being trampled after he was suspended for wearing a homemade shirt (video: MyFoxColorado) that reads "Obama is a terrorist's best friend."The fifth grader at Aurora Frontier K-8 School wore it on a day when students were asked to wear red, white and blue to show their patriotism.The boy's father Dann Dalton describes himself as a "proud conservative" who has taken part in some controversial anti-abortion protests. Dalton says the school made a major mistake by suspending his son for wearing the shirt."It's the public school system," Dalton says. "Let's be honest, it's full of liberal loons."According the the boy's father, the school district told the student, Daxx Dalton, that he had the choice of changing his shirt, turning his shirt inside out or being suspended.Daxx chose suspension."They're taking away my right of freedom of speech," he says. "If I have the right to wear this shirt I'm going to use it. And if the only way to use it is get suspended, then I'm going to get suspended."Daxx's dad agrees with him and is encouraging his son to stand his ground. "The facts are his rights were violated. Period."Aurora Public Schools would not talk about the case but said the district "Respects a student's right to free speech, such as the right to wear specific clothing," but administrators say they review any situation that interrupts the learning environment.Paperwork submitted by the school district says Daxx Dalton was not suspended for wearing the shirt, but for willful disobedience and defiance. The boy's father says he intends to pursue a lawsuit against the district.


My initial response:

Interesting. This father sounds like he's doing some serious brainwashing of his FIFTH GRADER for that kid to be so strong in his defiance here. The problem is, I doubt the school violated any first amendment rights though. If his shirt was causing a ruckus in the student body, (and I'm quite certain it did) then the administration has the right to ask him to change the shirt or turn it inside out. When he refused to do either, then they have the right to suspend him for his open act of defiance. In our county, the school dress code includes the following paragraphs. I'm betting most systems have similar language in theirs...

XYZ County Public Schools recognizes the rights of individuals to express themselves through their appearance. Accordingly, the XYZ County Public School's dress code is intended to allow for such expression, as well as to curtail situations that would be inappropriate, unsafe, disturbing, or disruptive to the educational setting of the school. The administration reserves the right to define appropriate and inappropriate dress.

The following is a list of those clothing items that are considered unacceptable and strictly prohibited from use within the XYZ County Public Schools. The administration reserves the right to grant medical exceptions. Students in all grades will be prohibited from wearing:

A. Clothing and accessories that promote alcohol, tobacco, or drug usage or which display weapons or violence and which cause or are likely to cause a disruptionwithin the school environment.

B. Clothing and accessories that contain vulgar, derogatory or suggestive diagrams, pictures, slogans religiously, ethnically, or sexually offensive and which cause or are likely to cause a disruption within the school environment.

C. Clothing symbolic of gangs or disruptive groups associated with threatening behavior, harassment or discrimination and which cause or are likely to cause a disruption within the school environment.

D. Clothing, accessories and/or any words, pictures, diagrams, etc., thereon which are lewd, vulgar, indecent, plainly offensive, or which cause or are likely to cause a material disruption.

His rebuttal:

wow... b/c the kid stood up for something he believed in, he's being BRAINWASHED??? are you serious? but its ok to have this liberal crap shoved down our throats everyday at school??? wow. i applaud the kid. im sure that if he had on an Obama shirt, he would have been considered cool, but b/c this kid and his family consider themselves conservatives, now the shirt is "disruptive"? sad state of our educational and moral system.i have seen kids with "titty" shirts on (naming and describing various titty shapes) and you dont hear about them being sent home... wth?then you ask, why was the shirt causing a ruckus in a FIFTH GRADE STUDENT BODY??? yeah FIFTH GRADE??? you mean to tell me that the classroom is that brainwashed to create a ruckus when someone shows defiance to "the Chosen One"?wow, if I was a lawyer in Colorado, i'd be knockin on their door to take this case...

My response:

I see your point regarding my use of the word "brainwashed" Joe...perhaps "heavily influenced by his father/parents" should have been my choice instead. I don't have a problem with anyone standing up for what THEY believe in---I'm the first to stand up for myself (and for those who aren't as brave or strong enough to stand for themselves).

Now I'm not sure where you're from, but its hard to imagine a school system who would allow "titty shirts" in their schools at all---unless the kids aren't "believing in the titties" enough to standup for their choice in wearing them---and therefore not getting sent home for defying school administration. Could be a good reason we're not hearing about it. Regarding THIS boy's situation, I don't CARE where you're from, the nature of that t-shirt was offensive. I don't care if it had Obama's name or McCain's or Captain Kangaroo's---"Obama is a terrorist's best friend" is clearly going to ruffle some feathers, especially in our country's present-day anti-terrorism environment we now live in. If his shirt had said ANYONE'S name in place of Obama's, it would still be offensive, just as if the shirt had said "McCain is a black man's/poor man's/immigrant's worst nightmare." Worse, this shirt was a "homemade" t-shirt, which means the statement printed on the shirt probably came from hearing his father express it, a confirmed controversial anti-abortion protester. I've seen first hand how extreme their opinions are and how far they are willing to go to express them to whoever they think will listen. It gets downright violent at times. Yeah okay, so the boy's choice to wear the shirt was his choice. And yeah his choice to not change it, turn it inside out or be suspended was HIS choice. He was suspended for willful disobedience and defiance. Just like those controversial protesters his father is associated with.

On a personal note, I learned my first lesson just this weekend about raising a school-aged child in regard to influencing a healthy political view. As my girlfriend, our kids and I were leaving a community yard-sale on Saturday, we passed by a McCain/Palin tent where they were passing out literature, buttons and opinions to passers-by. My 11-year-old daughter says "stupid McCAIN" not only LOUDLY but with this venom in her voice I had not heard before. I was stunned. I jacked her up for being so rude and explained that we live in a country where we are privileged to live in a Democracy and that we all have a CHOICE. That those campaign supporters may not share OUR choice, but it is their choice nonetheless and we are to respect that. She understood better when I used an example of a non-Obama supporter who showed similar ignorance and rudeness to her when we participated in a voter registration drive this spring. (We are volunteers in our local chapter of Obama's campaign.) My husband and I discuss the election and politics in general on pretty much a daily basis during the evening news hour and she hears a lot of what we say and we try to discuss things with her so she has some understanding of what is going on (on both campaigns) and why this historical election is so important. That being said, it occurred to me why the venom was present. She hears her dad going off everytime McCain is on TV ads, in the news, or being discussed in the news. He's a very opinionated voter and voices his opinions openly and with a lot of emotion (mainly anger lol). It hit me that our daughter has heard so much of his ranting, that she had adopted his attitude--NOT HEALTHY. I discussed it with my husband and explained that she is at a very impressionable age and that it's natural for a child to adopt his/her parent's political opinions & views as their own until they are mature enough to develop their own. She's likely to remember this election for the rest of her life--and now that she has become invested in one of it's nominees. I want it to be a healthy experience for her, not one that is going to get her suspended because she takes after her father in the "mouth of the south" department and gets her ass in trouble for forcing her opinions onto others. School is definitely not the place for that.

A lesson in friendship...

You’re born into your family, you’re forced to get along with your colleagues, but you choose your friends. Sometimes friendships need to be evaluated to determine if they still serve their purpose. Friendship is camaraderie. Your friends should respect your values, be honest with you when you call on their advice and love you through your faults. There are times when friends grow apart or come to a fork in the road that defines where their friendship will go. It is at these times that some relationships take an odd course and the partnership turns into a power struggle that defies the boundaries of trust, loyalty and respect. When these times occur, we can sometimes confuse true friendship and the overwhelming desire to maintain something that is merely safe in its longevity. In short, friendship is not defined by time or our shared history. Friendship is defined by our ability to share our lives with like souls. Recognize the difference between your acquaintances and your friends. Most importantly, know when the actions of your “friends” speak to the quality of your relationship.

Have you had an instance when the actions of a “friend” have made you call to question your relationship? Did you determine that you wanted to continue this relationship or did you terminate the friendship?

Music in My Life

I am a child of the 80's and the dawn of the MTV era. I was actually watching the very first day they aired on cable TV in August of 1981. (Don’t tell my mom, though---I was probably on TV restriction at the time!) I was 10 years old that summer, and on the brink of discovering a love of music that I hold dear to this day. So many of those lyrics and images strike me today with such nostalgia and emotion that I can literally remember what I was doing and who I was with when I first heard the song or saw the video. It brings back so many feelings and memories of my adolescence and developmental years…most of them good, some of them dramatic and definitely a few less-than-shining moments in my history.

My mother always had different kinds of music playing in our house and I adopted a lot of her favorites as my own over the years. I suppose that is normal for most kids who have music as a big part of their households. I suppose now it is my turn to watch Michaela develop her own tastes in music and am happy to find that she is following in her Mama’s footsteps. I was in the car with Michaela today and as usual she was playing my iPod on the car stereo. A song came on that triggered for me a forgotten request that she wanted me to add this particular song to her iPod. She often asks me to add music to her iPod that I always loved, and it constantly surprises me that she has adopted my love of different genres of music and it makes me SO happy. We're talking blues, jazz, old-school funk, 80s pop, even a little country. She is learning what REAL music and REAL music videos are all about...not just the half-naked, booty-shaking hoochie mamas on a blinged-out set with R&B and Rap artists hollering about s*x and violence.

Anyway, the song was by Pat Benetar, "Love is a Battlefield." It came out in 1983, when I was 12 years old...just a little older than Michaela is right now. I hadn't heard it in a good while...and it made me remember that it was always one of my favorite music videos. I decided to come home and find the video on YouTube to show her. She seemed in awe that the video told an actual STORY that had MEANING. (She was also in awe that her mom could remember how to do the entire dance routine! Hah!!) It was a really cool mother/daughter moment for me that I know she won't fully appreciate until she's older but I'm so happy that we had it.

Today was a good day.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=j9J9rTZJBmw

Welcome to my world

I've been blogging off-and-on for a couple of years on Yahoo! 360 and MySpace. That's also when I began following my beautiful friend CocoaRican's blog here and his skillful posts inspired me to start honing my own writing skills whenever I have time (and quiet peace) to reach for cathardic expression. See, I don't blog the day-to-day details of my life because to me, it's just not all that exciting. I post when I'm really deep into my feelings about something, usually something reflective. Anyway, to give you an idea of who I am and what I'm about, read here:

Divorced but reconciled with the love of my life, Michael, we are the parents of our gorgeous daughter Michaela. She thinks we walk on water, but we're really just normal people who try to do right by others and pray she continues to love us unconditionally despite our imperfections. With 15 years under our belts, we've been through the highs and lows of marriage & divorce, but now reunited with a renewed energy that gets us through the storms that tend to befall most relationships. We work harder now to communicate and tend to each other's needs and expectations, yet allow each other to be imperfect without judgment. Each day is one step closer to our goal---of growing old TOGETHER, and making all those unrealized dreams come true...

I have an amazing family and the most loyal of TRUE friends. I am the friend folks call at 3am, just to talk through a crisis or to sit in the ER with their sick parents or children. I am the daughter who spent my father's last few years caring for him in ways I never thought possible. I'm the granddaughter that steps up and takes care of the grandparents, aunts or whoever is in need---no matter what is going on in my own life. I am the daughter who still holds hands with my mom out in public and who never hesitates to show affection to those I love and care about. And according to my teenaged cousins, I'm also the coolest adult in my family! I'm not without faults or flaws, though---there are plenty--but I am of pure heart and stronger than most women I know---I come from good stock! I am loyal to a fault but have no regrets in life---only lessons learned...