Back in the 1980s, when dinosaurs still roamed the earth, there was no day honoring Martin Luther King, Jr. Dr. King was a Civil Rights leader, an icon, but there was no national celebration until then. I was in high school, and Stevie Wonder came to our school, played the piano and sang. The next thing we all knew was that MLK(and how many people out there are so very important that they can be identified by just their initials?) had his day. Federal holidays aren't just handed out all willy-nilly; so this was a big deal. Since I was a teenager, my excitement was more about having a day off from school, but I'm older now. I wasn't alive back in 1963, but I wish I had been there.
I don't know what MLK would think about what's happening right now, what he would say. He wasn't perfect, but he wasn't walking blind. He must have had a very specific road that he was following toward equal rights when he was murdered. We know that he had an amazing dream, one that started to change the world. He spoke about transforming the "jangling discords" of America into a beautiful symphony; our nation seems even more stridently disharmonious today.
Yet...
Most of us, when we have a dream and we talk about it, use the past tense. We're awake, so the dream is over. It's done. But Martin Luther King, Jr. didn't say that he had a dream. He didn't use the past tense. For him the dream wasn't over. Instead, he said, quite clearly: "I have a dream." Present tense. Here it is, more than a half century later, and we are still in the midst of Dr. King's "fierce urgency of now". The mindfulness currently being preached about on the internet wasn't a thing back in 1963, but MLK was already there. Dr. King told us, "I have a dream", and by sharing his moment of mindfulness with the world, he gave us something very special. Our country changed for the better as a result of that dream. It's difficult to remember that sometimes, with all the idiocy, ignorance, and hatred swirling around.
The dream is still happening.
Showing posts with label dream. Show all posts
Showing posts with label dream. Show all posts
Monday, January 16, 2017
Wednesday, August 7, 2013
The Dream
"But MOMMMM!" Candace croaked from the back seat, her face blotchy. She knew that her argument was weak, but she had to try. "I can't go to that hospital! I will die!"
"You're imagining things, Candace," her mother told her again, as she continued the drive to Hels Memorial Children's Hospital. "You've been feverish for the past week. You'll feel better when your tonsils are out."
"No, mom. You don't understand," Candace hoarsely tried, one more time, to convince her mother. "There's a monster at that hospital."
"There's a monster." She hugged herself. "He's got eight arms and a tail like a kangaroo. He comes into the surgical rooms and sucks the life out of children while they are helpless."
"Have you been talking to Grandma again?" her mother almost swerved into the next lane, glaring at her daughter. "You know she is half crazy with her dementia! Did she tell you this?"
"No." Candace shuddered. "I had a dream. I was in the hospital, and it came into my room. It looked at me and smiled. It had lots of pointy teeth!"
"Don't make me go there, mom!" She wailed. "Please! I am begging you! We can go to any other hospital, I don't care. Just not that one!"
"Nonsense! Hels is the best children's hospital in the state, and you are ten years old--no longer a baby." her mother responded as she parked. "What an odd imagination you have, Candace."
Candace just cried. Her mother refused to listen to her! She cried all the way into the hospital, through Admitting, and into the Pre-Op. When she was prepped and ready to be wheeled into the operating room, Candace hugged her mother groggily and told her goodbye. Bemused, Candace's mother stood in the hallway and watched as her daughter was rolled passed the double doors leading to the OR. As the doors were closing, she caught a glimpse of something that looked suspiciously like a kangaroos tail. She froze.
It was a long day at the office, is all I'll say.
The prompt is the third definition of WEAK.
The prompts are kangaroos and midnight oil
"You're imagining things, Candace," her mother told her again, as she continued the drive to Hels Memorial Children's Hospital. "You've been feverish for the past week. You'll feel better when your tonsils are out."
"No, mom. You don't understand," Candace hoarsely tried, one more time, to convince her mother. "There's a monster at that hospital."
"There's a monster." She hugged herself. "He's got eight arms and a tail like a kangaroo. He comes into the surgical rooms and sucks the life out of children while they are helpless."
"Have you been talking to Grandma again?" her mother almost swerved into the next lane, glaring at her daughter. "You know she is half crazy with her dementia! Did she tell you this?"
"No." Candace shuddered. "I had a dream. I was in the hospital, and it came into my room. It looked at me and smiled. It had lots of pointy teeth!"
"Don't make me go there, mom!" She wailed. "Please! I am begging you! We can go to any other hospital, I don't care. Just not that one!"
"Nonsense! Hels is the best children's hospital in the state, and you are ten years old--no longer a baby." her mother responded as she parked. "What an odd imagination you have, Candace."
Candace just cried. Her mother refused to listen to her! She cried all the way into the hospital, through Admitting, and into the Pre-Op. When she was prepped and ready to be wheeled into the operating room, Candace hugged her mother groggily and told her goodbye. Bemused, Candace's mother stood in the hallway and watched as her daughter was rolled passed the double doors leading to the OR. As the doors were closing, she caught a glimpse of something that looked suspiciously like a kangaroos tail. She froze.
It was a long day at the office, is all I'll say.
The prompt is the third definition of WEAK.
The prompts are kangaroos and midnight oil
Wednesday, October 27, 2010
No Kiss For Mama
I am not a touchy-feely kind of person. I'm not a hugger and I'm not generally a cuddler, either. I'm a "you sit on your side of the couch, I'll sit on my side" kind of a person. It's nothing personal; I think I just have some tactile defensiveness going on. My mother is worse than me--she practically jumps out of her skin whenever someone hugs her. I do feel very 'fingernails on tin roof' about being touched, and while I may not show it, it does raise my stress level. When my sensory overloads, I become defensive. Then I don't want to be touched or talked to or even looked at because I feel like I will explode.
But I am trying to be more huggy for my son. I didn't get to hold him much while he was in the NICU, but as soon as it was safe, my boy was in my arms. Because I'm not a touchy-feely type, I don't want that for my child. I don't want him to feel that I don't love him just because I'm not as huggy as other mothers. I want him to feel comfortable appropriately touching others people, either by hugging, handshakes, etc. So when I play with Zane we do a lot of hands-on activities, such as wrestling, tag, and hide. Zane likes to hang upside down, and I hold his legs up. It's good for him and good for me to get over my own hang-up.
Every night before he goes to bed, I ask Zane for a kiss. Just a quick smooch on the cheek or forehead, traditionally a way that mothers everywhere offer a blessing to keep away the bad dreams. Lately, Zane has told me "no kiss". This upsets me a bit, since I feel it's my sacred duty to keep the bad dreams away. So I try at least three times while he is awake to get him to let me kiss him goodnight.
"No kiss, Mama." My heart cracks a little, but I let my little man go off to dreamland sans kiss. But I do worry about bad dreams keeping my little boy from optimal sleep. So, after Zane is asleep, I sneak in and plant a kiss on his forehead and whisper "sweet dreams". If I could fit in that toddler bed, I would curl myself around him like a dragon, to protect and defend his dreams. Even when he is awake and far away from me.
But I am trying to be more huggy for my son. I didn't get to hold him much while he was in the NICU, but as soon as it was safe, my boy was in my arms. Because I'm not a touchy-feely type, I don't want that for my child. I don't want him to feel that I don't love him just because I'm not as huggy as other mothers. I want him to feel comfortable appropriately touching others people, either by hugging, handshakes, etc. So when I play with Zane we do a lot of hands-on activities, such as wrestling, tag, and hide. Zane likes to hang upside down, and I hold his legs up. It's good for him and good for me to get over my own hang-up.
Every night before he goes to bed, I ask Zane for a kiss. Just a quick smooch on the cheek or forehead, traditionally a way that mothers everywhere offer a blessing to keep away the bad dreams. Lately, Zane has told me "no kiss". This upsets me a bit, since I feel it's my sacred duty to keep the bad dreams away. So I try at least three times while he is awake to get him to let me kiss him goodnight.
"No kiss, Mama." My heart cracks a little, but I let my little man go off to dreamland sans kiss. But I do worry about bad dreams keeping my little boy from optimal sleep. So, after Zane is asleep, I sneak in and plant a kiss on his forehead and whisper "sweet dreams". If I could fit in that toddler bed, I would curl myself around him like a dragon, to protect and defend his dreams. Even when he is awake and far away from me.
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