You Were Always There

                            A Letter To My Aunt Alice

                             'You Were Always There'

Dear Nunie,

I don't know why you had to leave us that night. "Oh, the angels have called her home," I've heard them say.  

I sat crying, stunned at the news.  I had known that something happened; it was something big, but I wasn't sure what, or who. 

 I guess I thought you would always be here; I never questioned it.  You were there when I was born.  Attended all of my birthday parties and Christmases.  You were always there.  

I remember when I was ten years old and desperately wanted a cassette of the soundtrack to the movie, 'Grease.' It was my favorite, and I was obsessed.  "You'll have to wait until you have your allowance," my mom gently told me.  I was a spendthrift, and maybe I did need to wait for it.  You overheard this whole conversation, and I saw you taking it in with those piercing blue eyes of yours.  I could see that you really understood how important it was to my little soul, how much I needed this thing.  You then asked my mom if you could loan me the money to get it now.  She said you could, and I was ecstatic.  I still learned the lesson I had to learn, but I didn't have to suffer the long wait for my coveted treasure.  This is something that aunts are good at- making life a happier place for their kids, their nieces and nephews.  

I'll never forget coming to your house for Halloween, and the parties you would have for us there. We looked so forward to these nights, and I cannot even begin to tell you how much.  There was always a dazzling array of snacks and things that you had made just for us.  Decorations were everywhere, music was playing.  It felt like a child's idea of perfection.  I think the only time I ever actually bobbed for apples was at your house. I'll always hold these memories dear.

Then, there were the Christmas parties.  There was always something amazing, exciting and different that you had created!  Jello 1-2-3? Beautiful white Christmas cake with red and green ribbons running through it?  How did you ever think of these things, and how did know how much we would love them?  There was more than a little magic at play there, as I see it.  

You're such a part of the tapestry of my life.  My history.  The memory of your face is woven like a beautiful golden thread throughout all the important milestones and events, occasions. 

You were always there, and I remember.  

It's so hard to say goodbye and I'm still not ready to let you go. So let's just say, "see you later, alligator," instead (you WERE after all, the one that taught me to say this when I was 3). 

 I understand now that you'll always be near me.  You'll always be there.

All My Love,

Kristin

Bullied By Jesus

With all the talk about, and awareness of bullying these days, I thought I would write of my own experience with it.
I grew up in a suburb of San Diego, which was very near the Mexican border area.   Most of my little classmates were Hispanic, and the majority belonged to the Catholic church.
This was a big element in the lives of my schoolmates- I heard about their confirmations, knew that they ate fish instead of any other meat on Fridays, went to catechism classes, prayed their rosaries and said their "Hail Marys." I also heard about how I, since I hadn't been baptized, was going straight to hell.  I wasn't sure exactly what or where  Hell was, but I knew by the somber expressions and tsk tsk tsks that it wasn't good.  This became an issue that caused me worry, embarrassment and some apprehension.  I really did feel left out, different and of course, concerned that my sister and I were headed to this place called  Hell to meet with a man named "The Devil" or "Diablo."
Another issue that seemed to incite some of my peer's rage and make them want to pick on me, was the fact that I was a little chubby.  This was back when most kids seemed  to be on the skinny side, and I was mostly not. I got teased a lot for that as well.  Add to this my very distinct yet not cool (I always wore what I liked, not what the fashion mags told me to) style of dress, and the fact that i was a bit hairy, and things got real.  
Back to elementary school, though.  There was a particular boy, ironically named "Jesus," that really enjoyed picking on me.  One particular incident has stuck with me all these years. My sister and I had gotten new shiny jackets from our dad.  Shanon's was pink, and mine was royal blue.  I remember  how shimmery it was, and how much I loved it.  It was, after all a gift from my dad. I was in the cafeteria serving line, and Jesus was behind me. In the most nasty voice his fourth grade self could muster, he said to me, "did your Daddy buy that shiny jacket for you?" Jesus went on to mock and embarrass me.  I wasn't sure what to say, or how to handle the situation.  There were other incidences, and I remember feeling like I just had to remain on my toes.  I never knew when the next insult,slur or mean comment might come about.  

I never told my parents about any of this.  I suppose I was a little embarrassed, or maybe worried that they would march down to my school to try to defend me, and that it might even aggravate the problem.

So, I guess my point in writing this post is- I'm really happy and thankful to see a new awareness, a new sensitivity emerging amongst people; an intolerance of hatred and unkindness.  I also know we have a ways to go, and more work to do. 

Remember,  It is our uniqueness that makes the world go 'round. What an exciting new time it is.  Little Kristin, all those years ago, would be pleased.  

We are, after all, in this together.  

Better Than Ants In Your Pants...

Today I was walking downtown with a friend, who is not very tall, so maybe he notices things on the ground more than most. His naturopath has him on a grain-free diet, so he gets intense cravings for carbs. Well, you can imagine then, how the half-eaten pretzel we passed caught his eye. Before I could stop him, he had it in his mouth, and was chewing maniacally. Wild eyed,he could not be stopped. Suddenly, mid frenzy, my friend dropped his lucky find. I figured that maybe someone had loaded that bad Larry with Tapatio or Sriracha and he just couldn't handle the heat. I didn't mention the pretzel incident I'd just witnessed, out of respect for his feelings. I figured he was probably embarrassed enough as it was. When we reached my car, my friend started having a meltdown in the passenger seat. Turns out, that tasty pretzel was loaded with ants (I ran back and examined the evidence while

he wasn't looking)... teeming with ants. Did I mention there were a LOT of ants on that thing? Anyway, I spent a fair amount of time today, picking live ants out of my friend "P's" unruly beard. He was thankful, humbled and relieved.I can't say he'll never try something like this again, but I bet he'll have a closer look before he leaps next time!

Saturday In The Park

Having a nice time today, hanging with this little fella.