Archive | July, 2020

Moms Are Pissed

26 Jul

This week has been a stellar week for women and moms in the US news. While I have held to the commitment that this is not a political blog, I simply cannot fill it with pictures of my dog (as cute as she is, and as happy as she makes me) which was where I was leaning this week.

My own artwork.

The news broke in Portland with the “Wall of Moms” being tear gassed. https://youtu.be/fNBiWnl1H8g Their motto brought tears to my eyes.

Then there was the fiery response by Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez on the floor of our seat of government. https://youtu.be/LI4ueUtkRQ0

Our hope, our voice.

And lastly I read a blog by Jon Katz https://www.bedlamfarm.com/2020/07/24/one-mans-truth-aoc-moms-women-mayors-its-on/ which puts it into perspective beautifully.

Author, blogger and keen observer.

So this week I will rest. My eyes burn from crying. I just bought a book on Mary Magdalene. I will fill my time wrapped in her inspiration. She was another strong woman beyond my experience. I’d love to hear your thoughts on where you find peace and inspiration. Stay home, stay safe, until next week.

DOS TORTAS

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A Birthday Letter To Our Granddaughters

19 Jul

Dear Sara and Analise,

This past week was your second birthday. Your Grandma Lisa and I felt sad because we couldn’t be there to celebrate with you. It is the year 2020 which will go down in modern history as one of the strangest times, certainly the strangest in my lifetime.

A Premie Ambulance

Grandma Lisa and I were at your house in California after you were born. We came to see you in the hospital when you were very tiny babies. You were born premature and mom had to stay with you in the hospital. We took care of Max until you were big enough to come home.

Sweet babies

It was so fun to take care of you when you came home from the hospital. Grandma Lisa and I took turns with your dad getting up in the middle of the night when you woke up. I remember getting up in the middle of the night with your mom when she was just born. She would look at me with eyes wide open. I thought she was the most beautiful thing I had ever seen and I still do. I was 24 years old.

Your mom as a newborn.

We will be around as much as we can while you are growing. I have a few thoughts to share. I don’t know how wise they are, but here goes.

Be kind, especially to people who are not kind to you.

Lots of people love you. And it is not your job to make them happy. It is their job to love you and teach you how to be responsible women.

Always pick your sister and brother. They will be with you a long time. Sharing memories together when you are older will be the best. Especially when you are as old as me.

We miss you all.

Mom said you will get these letters when you turn 18. What an exciting time for you. Be happy and know that I love you. Nana aka

DOS TORTAS

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Unpacking My Racism

12 Jul

I have always said that racism is in the water. Whenever a white person declares indignantly, “I’m not a racist”, I have to laugh. Being raised white almost anywhere on the planet ingrains racism into our being. This week I saw how true that was for myself. I looked in the mirror and had to come down off my high horse. I am no exception.

A Visitor

I was kayaking one beautiful morning this week on Laguna Bacalar where I live and met a young couple sitting with their toddler on a dock near my house. We began talking in Spanish, because after all we’re in Mexico. When I realized that the man was translating our conversation for his wife, I asked them where they were from. The answer was, San Diego (California USA).

Sunrise on Laguna Bacalar

Our conversation continued with them asking me questions about Bacalar, and I then committed what is referred to as a micro aggression. I asked this brown skinned woman again where she was FROM.

Our Dock

I’ve been to San Diego. I was in awe of its perfect climate, big homes, flower filled streets and high cost of living. I guess my racist brain could not imagine this brown-skinned family being from such a white, wealthy place. I discovered that she was Philippina, which is besides the point. She was from San Diego.

We’re All In This Together

Seeing my unconscious assumptions is what unpacking racism looks like. Processing the immediate shame and embarrassment is important, only NOT with a person of color. My black and brown friends do not want to hear about my racism. They already know. My prayer is that seeing my stupidity will help me be less stupid next time. I will however make different mistakes, cuz that’s what it means to be human in this world.

DOS TORTAS

Amen

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Living On Borrowed Time

5 Jul

My passport expires mid-December 2020. I was reminded by a friendly airline attendant the last time I traveled. (Seems like ages ago.) With added security measures, one cannot travel with less than six months left on a passport. You do the math, July! And somehow July is already here.

Leaving myself lots of time, I had an appointment for March 18 at the US Consulate in Playa del Carmen, about a two hour drive toward Cancun. New photos, check, directions to the Consulate, check, application filled out, check, prepaid return envelope from FedEx, check, renewal fee, check. I was all ready.

While giving up my passport always makes me nervous, my research told me that it was a relatively painless process and that I would have my new passport fairly quickly.

Then it happened, Covid and the quarantine. An email arrived the night before my appointment. The Consulate would be closed until further notice.

I have called several times for a status update. Still closed. They will issue emergency passports only. I once had my passport stolen, in Greece. I was issued a temporary passport to get me home to the US. That wouldn’t be bad if I absolutely needed to leave Mexico. The trouble is that the US is not renewing passports either. That means that I could be stranded in the States for who knows how long. Not what I want for sure.

Stela helps write my blog.

I will keep calling but with the cases of Covid going up in both Mexico and the US, things are not looking good. What would it mean if I were living in Mexico on an expired passport? I have no idea. As with so many other things in our lives, I’ll say a prayer and take it one day at a time.

DOS TORTAS

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