Sunday, January 13, 2013
Everybody dies...
But not everybody lives...
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Saw that on a t-shirt a few years ago. Makes sense, really.
Happy New Year! Yea, bit late. I was wondering where to go this year. I, like everyone else was obsessed with all the folks lost in 2012. Even started to check out the lists that are commonly made each year regarding famous people that passed during the year. Thinking about movie stars, sports stars, musicians, others that we have been entertained by that have gone on to the next level.
I decided, like last year, that we all are fully aware of the famous ones, our favorites that are gone and it does get depressing. Those we have grown up with, have known, not personally, but still, it touches us. There is no shortage of those that would appreciate knowing they will be missed.
I thought of my own personal losses. From a true Matriarch, a woman that has led our family for so long, loved and respected like no other. We couldn't ask for another minute with her, she gave us all she had. I think of our war hero, too young, either to be hero or gone. He touched more lives than we imagined. Down to the little one. Our young friend, so happy. Anticipating all that comes with a new life, growing inside her, her little man. Taken so coldly and quickly, we never even had a chance to see his little face or remark about how he looked like mom or dad or share in our friends' happiness.
But like last year, I made no list. We all know the ones that have left us here to carry on. To be strong, to hold dear, those that lost ones closer than we.
Saw a very good movie a while back. One of the main characters made a statement about death, actually a couple of them. The first was made upon the death of a fellow traveler, when he stated, " the only thing you can do about death is to ride away ". True I suppose, got to keep moving. The other comment was made shortly before his own death. Arguing with his longtime partner and friend about his impending demise, he stated, "It's not dying I'm talking about, it's living."
Michael Jeter, an actor of some merit, stated during an interview that he was not dying of AIDS, he was living with AIDS.
We sure spend a lot of time dying.
Well, I've got some reasons to try to stay alive this year. I have been called a survivor, I have been associated with the coyote. Living for today, with an eye on tomorrow as well.
Other than the obvious family and friends as a reason to keep the blood pumping, there are other things that, even the thought of, will keep me interested in staying around.
I plan, this April, to be involved in the Lawton MS walk. I hope to raise a bit more money than I did last time. My friend has MS and I discovered last year that the wife of another friend has been diagnosed, so I will do this in support of those and others.
Last Memorial weekend, I took a Marine Corps flag to something called Rolling Thunder. A large demonstration in Washington, D.C. I took it to have as many Marines to sign it as I could, so I could present it to a friend of mine that couldn't make the trip. This year, I plan on taking him.
In July, I have a a nephew that I love dearly that will be tying the knot with a beautiful young lady and come hell or high water, uncle G will find a way to be there.
Something that I may not manage, but would love to do is make a very special iron butt run. I found a route that would take me through a place called Cave Creek, Az. There is a bar there where the notorious Hells Angels are reputed to hang out. Having 24 hours to ride 2000 miles would give me plenty of time to stop and make an attempt at getting a autograph from a man named Sonny Barger. It would easily mean more to me than to him, haha. That's a long shot, but surely worth the thought. I was planning on making that trip with someone that truly could have used a long, grueling trip like that with such a reward, but he took another trip and I hope it's been a good one so far. That, by way would be in October, in time for Sonny's birthday run.
Another birthday of interest is my best friend's. My most enduring and best friend, my brother is having a significant birthday with a zero on the end. I can't think of anywhere I'd rather be on the 18th of December.
These are but a few of the ideas I have for making 2013 a special year. 2012 had some high points and some very low points. I even touched my son......for the first time in decades and truly hope to see fruit from that seed.
I, of course, plan to continue to ride with the Patriot Guard and maybe go ahead and join up with Rolling Thunder, as I desire to try to give back to those who give so much.
I recently received a certificate and a picture on the Wall of Fame for my blood donations with the Oklahoma Blood Institute for my 2012 offerings and I plan to continue to donate as often as I safely can.
So, all that being said, 2013 is shaping up to be a good, busy and fruitful year. I hope you all have made your plans to stay with us so we can get together and compare notes next January.
Be safe and love each other.
Sunday, November 11, 2012
I got him this time....
and a couple more too
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
I really enjoy parades. I used to live in a small town in Georgia that seemed to have one almost every month. It didn't matter what was going on, same folks, every time. Fire engine, big ladder truck with some local dignitary on top tossing candy to kids. Convertible car, usually an antique of some kind, some overdressed young lady waving. High school band playing on and on. Didn't matter why, just fun.
The little town I grew up in had a parade once that I was a part of. Don't remember much about it. I remember it was in the fall, because it was cool and overcast. The team I played football for, the 85 lb Acworth midgets were to ride on a trailer behind a tractor and wave and toss candy. Well, as it sometimes turns out, there was a tiny snag. My pastor, a guy we all liked, had the church put together a very simple float. They took a trailer and put kind of a wall up in the back and had a short church pew bolted down and a podium at the front. One young man was to stand there and pretend to preach to two others sitting in the pew. As if you'd catch me in the front pew, really? Anyway, I've already given it away. He asked me to sit up there with some girl. So, full uniform, pads and all pretending to enjoy a false fire and brimstone message from the front pew. I discovered then that truly it's more fun to watch a parade than to be in one. Not one piece of candy.
There is something I've been involved in for the about three years that I've heard mistakenly imagined to be a parade. It's actually a funeral procession. As I've said many times and most of my blogs are about my involvement with the Patriot Guard Riders. I ride with them as often as I can. Much unlike a parade, these are solemn events and my participation in them is a matter of dignity and pride. I'ts very moving to be with a family at the worst possible time, sharing their most private and intimate moment with a loved one they will only see again in the afterlife. It's something I feel has to be done. Someone has to do it.
I've been to many funerals. My mother used to want me to go with her. She went to funerals that the rest of the family missed. Someone has to be there. I've also been a part of the Knights of Columbus, an organization within the Catholic church, where I was a part of many funerals.
But let me get back. Saturday was not a funeral. The Patriot Guard was invited to be a part of the Veteran's Day parade in Duncan, Oklahoma. I know that I mentioned that it was better to watch a parade than to participate in one. I actually was a part of building a parade last year and learned that it's for real not where you want to be! Anyway, I will ride with the Guard anytime I'm able, even in a parade. Besides, this was more than a parade, it was another opportunity to show how much I appreciate our military. There is, here we go again, a happening in Washington D.C. every year on Memorial weekend that I have been a part of for the last two years that has been mistaken as a parade. This year I was somewhere in the first fourth of close to a half of million motorcycles involved in the Rolling Thunder demonstration, riding through the streets of D.C.
Ok, I promise, this is it.
This year, as I did two years ago, I rode with some Patriot Guard members along with riders from the much beloved and quickly growing Biker church. There was also the Combat Veterans motorcycle club and a few others. All there to ride in support and appreciation of all veterans. As happened two years ago I passed this maybe not so young man wearing his tan suit with his Marine Corps tie and his WWII baseball style cap. When I saw him before, standing tall and proud, as we were moving slowly by, I couldn't help but salute him and of course he snapped one back. Still brings a tear to the eye. I was wearing a pair of sunglasses that happen to have the ability to record audio and video and hopefully someday I will find someone to take that video and steal one frame from it so I can have a picture of this man. I wondered what he had seen, could I even handle the stories that he can't or won't forget. I'd love to spend some time with him, just listening to him talk. I try to give any of those folks time nowadays. They want to talk, I'll listen. Try it, it's well worth the time you give them.
Moving right along, this year's parade was bigger and we were behind the high school band and they were walking, of course and playing, so the pace was slower. Fine with me, that way you get a chance to interact a bit with the onlookers. Well, we rounded the corner and down a bit and there he was. I knew I had time, so I just kinda eased on over and stuck out my hand. He reached out and grabbed me with a still quite forceful grip and I told him, "thank you sir for your service". He was smiling and his wife quickly shouted out, "he was a tunnel rat"! Oh my God. I've heard over the years about tunnel rats. No, there would be no way I could sleep if he told me his stories. As much as I had inside for that old man, now I had more.
The kid in front of me on the crotch rocket and the guy wearing the colors for the Combat Vets MC in front of him noticed what I had done, so we went hunting. By the end of the parade, we had stopped and had the immense pleasure of shaking the hands of three more of those forever young men.
It will be a scene that will play before my eyes for the rest of my days. And it will always bring a tear to my eye. I guess I was wrong, sometimes it IS better to be a part of the parade than to just watch. Still....got no candy.
Happy Veteran's Day! From the wet behind the ears boot to the seasoned veteran and all those in between. Much love and many thanks, from me to you!
Wednesday, November 7, 2012
You're not gonna like this...
But I feel like it's my turn
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Now that the election is over, I'd like to give my take on a few things.
I feel that the Republican Party is at a crossroads. I'm wondering how you can have all these rich folks donating dump truck loads of money into an election and the other guy is picking up pennies in the parking lot and still lose.
You need to find a viable candidate. Excuse me, I saw the pop. vote and we all know that the powers that be decided that we are not smart enough to vote for who we like or that, as usual, they have a better way. I'm with all those upset this morning and have been on the other side of the fence before. I'm for doing away with the electoral college.
But as I said, you need a viable candidate. Mr. Romney has a great smile and nice hair and a beautiful wife. But he is an ultra rich guy that can find no common ground with the multitude of people that struggle daily to stay alive. The fact that he associates with only those of his type shows.
I've said it many times over the last few years. When the party sent out, what I've referred to as, "the boob and the bimbo, take your pick as to which was which". I had no choice. I've also said facetiously, I would've voted for a Castro/Chavez ticket rather than those two. The party couldn't have been serious. I'm sure they laid out the sacrificial lambs, planning to really do something in 2012. Well, the results are in.
Up until 2008, I had been a straight ticket Republican voter since Gerald Ford got sent home. I stuck with my party none the less. I was with a family member that while Ronald Reagan was smothering James Earl, the family member softly said from behind me, "God help us". To which I replied, "God just did". By the time President Reagan was eating Walter's lunch, she was on board. Sorry, maybe there are no more Reagan's...or are there? Maybe the powers that be should look around a little more and folks at home should do a bit more homework. The times insist that you study up on your choices.
When W. was coming up for reelection, by then I was concerned. I actually wrote an email to the White House stating that gasoline was so high, I only hoped that I would be able to afford to get to the polls to help reelect him. No, he didn't respond.
Then came that morning when a couple of huge buildings in New York fell down. That raised my eyebrows a bit. At first, I was thanking God that he was in the White house and not that scoundrel Clinton. Well, then the more I heard the more I wondered. I won't apologize for my take on all that. I was, at the time ignorant of the Bush family. I assumed it was so he could start a war and use the military to take over those oil rich countries so we could have assurance of enough gas to last a while. All the while, wondering where all the country's oil is and is it being used daily or stashed. It was only recently, in the last year or so, that I discovered information regarding the Bush family fortune. Munitions....since WWI. Grandpa Bush was involved with the U.S. Military. It then truly hit me. W may or may not have been directly involv,.ed in those bombings in order to start another war, like dear ol' dad, so they could build up their bank account. Makes sense.
Back to where I was going. Even W had the charisma and those eyes, until someone threw a shoe at him, to hypnotize us. He gave those rich supporters tax cuts for starting businesses anywhere on the globe. Hmmm, start a business in the states, like what happened when Mr. Reagan gave them cuts, or start one where I don't have to pay so much for good help, along with insurance and benefits like us spoiled American workers demand. And the manufacturing jobs vanished and here we are. Millions of jobs gone. Millions of proud, hardworking Americans not knowing where their next meal is coming from. And at the top of the list, in my opinion, is our total volunteer military, they go to another country, do what is expected of them and then come back to a home that isn't there. The house was repossessed while they were gone. Pathetic, but at least the Bush family can now use bundles of cash to heat their homes for a few generations. And speaking of Benghazi, take a look at W's record on such incidents.
Abortion, you really want to go there? I don't like it, but, I feel that it is no way my business to tell my wife what she can or can't do with her body. Period. And it disgusts me to hear candidates use that issue to garner votes from those that actually believe they will do something positive about it.
AS far as President Obama. I was sold on his smile, his family and quite frankly on his attitude. I am better off than I was four years ago. I have a job that I really like with a strong company. I have those good benefits, almost union like, that those other folks took out of this country. I know how quickly things can change. I could be like some others and get laid off with a slow down. Then I would be concerned with staying alive. I have medications to improve my health and by the way, healthcare and insurance that I will lose, should I get laid off. Then to be at the mercy of whatever government programs are available to me. Scary thought. I'm not a worthless bum,with the government paying my way and I strive not to be. But, I'm at the age where I realize I haven't put back enough over the years to be able to ever retire. But with the social security I have paid into and maybe staying healthy enough to continue doing some type of work, I might have a decent quality of life up until my number comes up. And like it or not, I'd really like to have some kind of healthcare to fall back on and maybe some education assistance to learn something new to keep me busy until the end of my days. And hopefully my wife will be able to stay in our home for the rest of her days as well.
Our president? Sure, he can raise my eyebrows sometimes. But I believe that he believes that he's able to help with a group that has been kicked around for generations. Old and infirmed, young and struggling with starting out and not having a clue what they are doing. And one more thing about that, I can't believe the number of folks calling themselves Christians that do not believe in the idea of being "my brother's keeper".
And you gun folks, I have no beef with you. You have an absolute right to own firearms and you should be able to buy whatever type of weapon you desire. You got the money, buy as you wish, rich people are allowed whatever they choose to purchase. But do a bit more of policing yourselves. I'm sick of hearing about innocent people dying because of gun violence. Do it or it's possible to lose that right. So maybe some courses on safety, push that....hard.
Ok, if you got this far, you should be rewarded for giving me the floor to vent. But sorry, no reward. All you get for your trouble is knowing me better. If you are mad, I can't apologize. I've said it many times, I'm not an educated man, I only know what I see.
Friday, October 5, 2012
Archie and Wes
..well, worked for us
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
I went for my morning walk today, well hardly morning, was just after noon. Just looking out the storm door and I knew that the Oklahoma summer had officially ended. The cool breeze along with the grey skies told me to grab a jacket. Good idea, as it is in the 50's according to the thermometer and with that breeze....
So I'm walking down close to the school and hearing the kids having their fun, recess, Friday, oh yea, don't get no better than that. But it got me thinking about something that hasn't crossed my mind for a while. That's part of living 1000 miles from home, and also having my memory.
Archie and Wes. Those guys used to take a day like today and wear out the competition. Archie Manning rarely got sacked or even touched and that Wes Chandler, well, IF you could keep up with him, you STILL gotta tackle him when he gets the ball. Sometimes Fran Tarkenton would show up, but mostly it was Archie, since the Mannings lived there and Wes, since he was Archie's favorite.
When it was just the two of us, it was mostly Alan's back yard, a couple others and we'd use those useless peach trees on my yard as out of bounds all the way down to the Sluder's yard. That crab apple tree was the end zone most of the time unless we stretched it down to the cedar tree I planted by the fence between our yard and the Fulmer's. The peach tree dividing up the Wilson's (Alan's) and the Sluder's, was an end zone and goal post for kicking field goals/extra points, as if anyone was sissy enough to kick an extra point. Grab that ball and run, son!
Was about 5 years I guess. We would be inside watching a sporting event of some type and we'd end up going outside at the halfway point and playing. Alan had the old basketball goal stuck up in that huge old pine tree where Kareem and Magic used to hang out and wipe the floor with any challengers that foolishly stepped up. We had Reggie Jackson and Don Drysdale if anyone was up for some baseball.
Kings of the neighborhood, hey, it's my story.
We weren't perfect. There was the time when Wes went out on a long crossing pattern. Archie being the dead shot he was, launched that ball just ahead of those perfectly designed hands and that damn peach tree took off about half of Wes Chandlers face. Oops...again. We were fortunate enough to have the good Dr. Cauble across the street. Usually he'd fix us up and not tell the parents. Can't have the great ones of every sport known to man in trouble with the folks because of some little injury, now can you?
Well, I seem to remember when Granny Cauble died. I heard a few years ago that Mr. Wilson had passed on, and Mr. Eaton, Mr. Sluder and others. Those times were long ago. As they like to say online these days. Things were different. If and I said If you were allowed to be in the house, must be awful cold or raining awful hard, you were helping clean house or watching what a parent wanted to see on the only TV in the house. You might be coloring or something quiet in your room. But I'm telling you, when you had some of the greatest ballplayers of all time right there in your back yard, why would you spend any time at all inside that boring ol' house?
Tuesday, September 18, 2012
..Sure of where I'm going
Not sure of how to get there...
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Woke up with many things swirling around in my head this morning. Not all that unusual. And also woke up with a song in my head. Everyday. But this song is different. I realize that all songs are like the people that sing them. They are all different and that's what makes them special. I have an appreciation for many different types of songs and I can make the moment with them. Listen to them and head out in a different direction.
Many that will go through my head while I'm riding. That is one reason I don't have a radio on my motorcycle...I can listen to what I want, when I want.
I actually woke up feeling rather down. I was thinking about how important this election is. I was thinking about the situation with Iran and Israel. It also crossed my mind about the football season begun. From high school up to the pros, lots of choices to make and defend.
I'm really not all that into sports anymore. I guess I just got tired of all the controversy. Like politics and just about any other subject, there is so many ways that we can separate ourselves.
That's where I was when I woke up. We all have our favorite sports teams and our favorite places to eat. Many of us have a particular place to be on Sunday morning, whether it be in a house of worship or stretched out on the patio. Religion is possibly the biggest way we find to separate ourselves. Boy, you want to fight, start in on someone's religion. Especially if you happen to be Muslim. I don't know much about Islam and Allah and all that, but I do know that Muslims are very proud and outspoken regarding their lives. Seems Muslims are like Jews in that it's not only a religion, I'ts a way of life.
I've been thinking seriously about bailing out on something called Facebook recently, simply because it has become quite a divisive place to be. Seems like all this negativity has been depressing for me. The reason for me being a part of Facebook, like many others, is to keep up with family and friends in a very simple way. There are those that are unhappy because I never call or write or visit and they are correct, I've allowed that medium to become my primary way of communication. Sad that it has depressed me so much lately. As much as myself and some others insist that we will stop using Facebook, whether it be negativity or changes or whatever, we remain.
Even the use of that medium is fodder for disagreement. And that, as I said, was the reason for waking up with the blahs.
But then, as I lay there, thinking of many things disparaging, that song came to me. Regardless of what anyone thinks or feels about the ways we have to separate ourselves. We can't agree on anything. Maybe, at least for those that read this, we can agree on one thing.
As Mr. Charlie Daniels stated a few years ago, when we all felt lost and confused and divided.
"We may have done a little bit of fighting amongst ourselves
but you outside people best leave us alone.
Cause we'll all stick together
and you can take that to the bank
That's the cowboys and the hippies
and the rebels and the yanks
You just go and lay your hand
on a Pittsburg Steeler fan
and I think you're gonna finally understand.
God Bless America again..."
Monday, July 30, 2012
Got to pay your dues if you want to sing the blues..
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
and you know it don't come easy...
Recently the angels swept down and collected the saintly soul of a most revered woman. She was the favorite aunt of my mother's and the mother of some favored cousins of mine. She was part of a generation that came forth out of the union of a pair of simple but uncommon people, loving and loved.
One story that will stay with me always is the one where my grandfather, to be, told me he had to ask "Ms. Addie" as he called her, for the opportunity to date her sister, my grandmother. She told him his duties and he obviously performed because he did end up as part of the family.
Concerning my grandmother, I have told many that she would have hugged Charles Manson and told him she loved him, and meant it.
Another of the sisters had a woman child that would become my "second" mother, giving me all the love and protection that a mother could and would offer.
One of the brothers ended up in California, where he tried, unsuccessfully, to entice me to join them in a family business.
Streams, flowing from the same pool. Those are but a glance at the stories I have personally. My siblings would have many others to tell about this family of folks that seem to crave the opportunity to share their love with others. I believe that they truly found out that the more you share, the more you have to share and they developed an unquenchable thirst for giving.
If it sounds unlikely, ask anyone that knew them. I'm confident that they would tell the same. I know, to imagine anyone like that in this world seems hard to believe, but sadly, it has come to an end.
That's not to say that this generation would feel any less toward another, I wouldn't suppose that a family would leave the following offspring without the knowledge or ability to share and to love as well. But, you know, things change. This whole world has changed dramatically since the turn of the last century.
In her 89 years, she saw many changes. I'd also say that if her nature was ever seen as a weakness and taken advantage of, she would never have been aware of it. I have said it many times, if you ask Aunt Penny to pray for something, you better be serious about it. She WILL do it and since I always felt she was closer to the source than many of us, something WILL come of it. A rare and special person to say the least.
I am so happy that I was able to visit her two years in a row, since it took me 40 years to get back to her last year. Strange how after all those years, I drove straight to her house. I can't remember what I had for lunch yesterday, but after decades of change in the area, I still drove right up to the house. Like a magnet....or something. This year they told me, she may not know you, so don't let it bother you. And when she saw me, the first thing she asked was, "where is your wife, why didn't you bring her with you?" You figure it out.
But as I said, regardless of how you feel about such things, I know that God told those angels, "Go get Ms. Addie, she's tired." At which they shouted with happiness at the opportunity to bring her home and came for her.
At the other end, you have a dear sweet child. I don't know her man, but, if she loves him, that's all I need to know. She was barely along in her bliss. She didn't know for sure, but I had seen already, she was carrying a beautiful little girl. A girl that her and her husband had produced by their love, that was so perfect, that God had sent the cherubs to gather her before her tiny feet had touched the earth. As he reached down to gingerly touch that little porcelain, dimpled cheek, he told the parents, I'm sorry, but this one is mine. We will never have the pleasure of seeing her hair of spun gold reflecting the sunshine with which it was made. Never will we look upon her eyes of bluest hues of the waters of the south Pacific, both warming and cooling at the same time. She will never be stained with the difficulties of this earth. She will never know hunger or thirst. Never will she be cold or have to endure the endless, dry Oklahoma summer heat. She sadly will not feel the shared heartbeat of a lover, but she will also not have her perfect cheeks feel the tears of a broken heart. No, this one, as special as one ever was.
I don't suppose we will ever understand, in this life, why some are taken early and some seemingly late. We never want them to go, but that's what they do. For some reason, maybe some have gifts for others and cannot go until those gifts are exhausted. Others, perhaps, are taken simply so the hole that they leave can be filled with the love and warmth of family and friends, closing in around them, in unwavering support.
Both of these gifts will be missed and thought of often. With love and with heartfelt appreciation for what they left us. One, a past of smiles and celebration of life and the other with a brilliant flash of hope for the future.
Wednesday, June 13, 2012
It only seems natural...
Kept me alive...
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Yes, that is today's topic. Breastfeeding.
I would never intend on controversy. But, I keep hearing about all these arguments and I can't believe it. When you drive by one of these ranches out here, or anywhere else for that matter, I know you do it. You see that calf or that foal having a bit of breakfast and you think or say, ahhhh.
It's one thing that we share with many animals. For quite a few of us, it's where our first meal comes from. Mom. It's a great relationship builder. It's, at least for me, where the bond we have with our mother's begins. I know as a breast fed baby, where the feelings I have and have always had for my mom came from.
I have an impossible time finding a reason for that to be a problem. It's the way things were. As many a grandpa has stated, back in my day, before all these products at the grocery store and all these people who seem to know so much, that's the way it was done.
I realize that for some there are difficulties that prevent new moms from being able to nurse and that's understandable. But for someone to actually be offended by the beautiful, heart warming sight of a woman feeding her child, I just don't get it. Or for a woman not to desire what I imagine to be continuity from carrying a child for nine months through the pain and chaos of birth to feeding after all that is over, just seems like the thing to do.
I remember how it hit me when my mom lost both of her breasts to cancer as it seems many do these days. It wasn't only the fact that cancer had invaded her body that created the stress we all felt, but it did leave a strange emptiness within me.
I honestly feel that our relationship was centered on breastfeeding. I've heard the experts talk about how it increases the bond we have and that there is as much psychological as physiological reasons for it.
I have no basis for the impression that not being breast fed has created this generation of lactose intolerant children. I know when my kids were young, that the breast was replaced by a bottle full of man made formula. I have a phobia about that. I never appreciated the fact that kids could get nourishment from such a source. I've also been told that mother's milk contains nutrients for a stronger immune system that can't be found in formula. It also has no shelf life or need to be kept cold or heated. I always felt it maybe slowed development.
There is no way to make up for the loss of intimacy. I see young people that don't have near the respect for their mother that I've had. The fact is, my mother and I didn't have a great relationship. But, I never came into her presence that I didn't kiss her forehead, nor did I leave her presence without a kiss and an I love you. Because I did love her.
There was a time, I've told you before, when I sent her cards on my birthday. I just felt, after all the stories on the news, that I was truly thankful for her. She didn't abort me, she didn't leave me in some trash bin, she didn't sell me. We weren't great friends, but I respected her and we did manage to find enough common ground to get along. I can't help but believe it was because of the way we started our lives together. With her lovingly holding me close to her body, me feeling her warmth, hearing her heartbeat. Feeling the ultimate in safety and intimacy, as she fed me. There is nothing that can replace that and I know it's something we need as humans.
I'm saying I realize that some new moms don't produce enough milk and some just have problems feeding. That is where the term "wet nurse" comes from. I imagine there are many that have no idea what that is. You don't hear it these days. And some will be offended by the fact that I used that term. But some time back, they were necessary. And that is it in a nutshell. People are offended.
I say it's a shame. I just can't wrap my head around anyone being offended at the most beautiful of nature's moments of life. Could it be a maturity issue? I mean, how can it be that the nation that spends unbelievable amounts of money each year on pornography be offended by a mostly covered woman's breast in public?
I thank my mom and all the other's that practice breastfeeding. I'm glad for the fact that they are willing to do so, to continue to give after the birth. Willing to do what it takes to build that relationship that has a chance to grow into something very special.
I've said many times that I admit that I'm not an educated man, that much of what I know comes from what I see and that's the way I see it.
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