Remission
Take me to the beach, I whispered, silky soft in his ear.
He wrapped me in his warmth beneath the covers.
I need to see the waves in every shade of green and blue and frothy white, I told his mind without uttering a sound.
He padded down the hall, got his sandals, keys.
We drove five miles, wind whistling through the vent, the heater waking up.
Ocean water swirled and raced, bubbled, then calmed and went away.
Surfers danced on ten foot waves through the pilings, praying their religion under the pier.
We watched.
Grit between my toes, pulling my sweater close, I took a breath and then another.
He took my hand, pointed out evidence of birds, busy as on every other day, beaking mites from the sand.
Today is different, I told them as we walked. Today I’m in remission.
The wind whipped my words away before they heard me.
They wouldn’t care, even if they knew.
We went for eggs, forked avocado and endless coffee.
Across the table, he smiled, wrapping me in the warmth of his eyes.
I smiled back.
Ewok with Mardi Gras Beads
I painted this for Devon’s 23rd birthday.
True Love
Something caught my eye. I looked up and to the right and saw a woman in her late forties trying to help her aging mom down the stadium steps. Her mother was petrified. She was shaking her head no and holding on to the safety banister for dear life. The daughter pulled her mother’s arms, trying to get her to budge.
It was her feet. I couldn’t stop looking at her feet. Pink Keds with white laces folded around white ankle socks. The way the foot tapped around looking for some safe place to be, the feet of someone older, someone less steady. I saw Grandma Jean in those feet.
Joe turned to me and asked, “Should I help?” “Yes! Do it now!” I replied.
I remembered how Grandma Jean had been scared to fall. How Joe and his aunts and uncles had at first helped her move from chair to walker, walker to car. One person in front, one on the side and someone in back so she would feel safe. Then it was chair to walker to bed. And then there wasn’t a lot of moving anywhere anymore.
I heard the older woman murmuring in a small voice and I wondered if she had dementia. Something about how she didn’t seem to recognize her daughter or the place or what they were doing. She was just afraid to the exclusion of everything else.
I thought about my dad. His dementia has made it nearly impossible to carry on a phone conversation. I miss him. I miss the old him that would get into a lively discussion about pretty much anything and told the corniest jokes in the universe. The kind that made you groan so deep you could cause an earthquake. I love this latest version of him, this softer, gentler version, I will always love however he is, but I hate the disease that makes him unsure of how to speak to someone in case he just asked that question a minute ago or makes him forget who those nice people are in his home, my kids. I hate the uncertainty on his face knowing he’s worried on the inside and aware enough to feel scared or stupid or ashamed.
In an instant Joe jumped up and went behind the older woman, grasping her around the waist and telling her in her ear, “I’ve got you. I’ve got you. You won’t fall. I’ve got you.” And I watched my husband help support her weight and walk her down those steps to sit by her husband, who this entire time had been standing in the row, waiting for his wife, with a look of frustration and love on his face, having been told to stay put by the daughter, realizing his older body wasn’t going to be of much help getting his wife down the stairs, but being unable to sit down and relax until she was next to him, his fists clenching and unclenching.
It was awkward, that walking down the steps all together, the daughter in front showing her mom the way and Joe in back supporting her weight. They jerked down one step at a time. People were starting to stare. Joe kept encouraging her, never stopped talking in her ear. Slowly the procession made it to the row and there was profuse thanks from the daughter and her father to Joe as they all sat down.
I was overcome with so many feelings and started to weep a little. I saw Grandma Jean, my dad, myself in 40 years, and even Phyllis who was loved by everyone but especially her family, just as this woman was.
And I fell deeply in love with my husband all over again.
Boo!
Adorable Ghost Snow Dude created by Tony. GSD is our only Halloween decoration, as I dislike Halloween with the heat of a thousand suns. But when your son makes you an adorable Ghost Snow Dude, well, what can I say. My tiny, shriveled Halloween heart grew three sizes that day.
Attaching Items to the Canvas – Rhoda in Seattle, Part 3
In this segment I’ve attached the items Rhoda sent to the canvas with modeling paste and getting ready to paint.
There is still time to be a part of the group painting. Details here!
Background music with heart is My Girl’s Blues by Bob Stacy found here on MeFi Music.
If you’d like to commission your own work, let me know.
Justice Fergie on Race and Blogging
I’ve been to many blogging conferences and had a mostly white experience. I’ve wondered why there weren’t more non-white people in attendance. I went searching online to find out if I was just missing something and found Blogalicious, a celebration of diversity in social media. This was about a year ago and after looking it over, I moved on, thinking it wasn’t for me because I’m white. Obviously, I didn’t read what the conference is about very well. It also shows how my thinking has been in the past, which I’m trying to change now.
It wasn’t until a few weeks ago when I started thinking and writing about race that I revisited the Blogalicious website after Kelly brought it up in an email exchange. Blogalicious Founder Stacey created the online community BeBlogalicious. They have a conference coming up October 21-23 which sounds really great. Stacey was kind enough to answer some of my questions. (You can find Stacey/Justice Fergie on Twitter.)
Was there a particular moment when you knew you wanted to start Blogalicious or was it a more slow-coming-about process?
It was a slow coming-about process. Pretty much all of the attendees of the blogging conferences around the time that we decided to plan a conference to celebrate diversity in 2009 were quite homogenous. Also, we were seeing the same handful of bloggers being offered all of the opportunities to work with brands. We were hoping to broaden the horizon and show advertisers that a fantastic and diverse blogging community existed.
What need is Blogalicious filling?
Blogalicious strives to fill the need of giving ownership of a corner of the social media landscape to those generally cut out of the popular conversations, events and opportunities. Part of our credo is that Blogalicious is for THE COMMUNITY. It’s not about us. We want bloggers of all backgrounds to feel as if Blogalicious is theirs to fulfill whatever need it is that they need to fulfill; whether it be the chance to network with power bloggers, to educate themselves about social media, to raise their own profiles and brand images, or to promote their businesses and blogs – we want our community to make Blogalicious their platform.
How do you think it’s doing at addressing that need?
I think we’re doing a decent job 
The best evidence is that the Blogalicious name has taken on a meaning of its own. We are propelled by the community that we’ve created. We started out planning to host a small conference; now we have an online community (BeBlogalicious.com), eBooks being published, meetups around the country, a documentary about it and so much more. As @brokesocialite says in our movie trailer: “Blogalicious is a movement. It can’t be contained to an event or a website – it’s a spiritual experience.” I think that speaks volumes.
What kind of feedback do you get about the conference?
The feedback we continue to receive is unbelievable. We literally get emails weekly from people telling us how Blogalicious has changed their lives. Just last month a blogger came up to me at a meetup crying and saying that there’s no words to describe how important Blogalicious is to her. It’s heartwarming. The support from brands has been amazing as well. It’s as if they were waiting for an opportunity to reach a multicultural audience.
How do you see/hope the landscape of the blogging world changing?
I think it’s changing as we speak. There’s already so many new and exciting voices making names for themselves, which is a far cry from what the blogosphere looked like 5 years ago when I started. I think that there is a definite sense of community, which is important. My hope is that we continue to uplift each other and to share information and opportunities. There’s plenty to go around!
Your recent post on Babble where you say making a separate list to honor non-white women isn’t a great idea seems to contradict your creating a separate conference. Can you tell me more about how you feel regarding that?
Interesting perspective! I can see your point. But actually, I don’t think that the two can be compared. Here’s why: Blogalicious is not “a separate conference.” We’ve been very adamant from the get-go that it’s a conference to celebrate diversity, meaning that it’s inclusive and EVERYONE’S invited. It’s a conference where everyone can feel welcome – moms and non; white and non; skilled bloggers and non – you get the idea.
What is something everyone can do daily to help diversify their online world?
Read someone with a differing viewpoint that yours; attend an event you might not otherwise attend; the key is to step outside of your comfort zone. Oh and of course, attend Blogalicious ’11 
Watch the trailer for the documentary here:
