I’ve realised why…

I’ve had so much traffic. Not only have I been nominated for an award, but I was invited to post one of my blog posts at a site because it was ”outstanding”.

I’m feeling very unwell as I discovered the second med. I take had run out. The pharmacy sent only half of my script. This one doesn’t keep me alive but helps. The trouble is that a missed dose makes one feel weird and strange. It passes off but it is unpleasant. So for the next few hours I will be feeling horrible.

I’ve had four nuisance calls this morning. I’ve also had numerous phone calls about a non-existent car accident. I am not stupid.

I am no threat to anyone. I’m pretty insignificant to anyone except my daughter. I’m not in love with anyone, I don’t write poison letters, and this blog at no time mentions where I live. I make sure that any surname used is across the whole country.

My ankle has been incredibly painful since last night. This morning my whole leg was hot and throbbing. It has reduced now, but is still uncomfortable.

My breathing is OK even though I’ve only taken my med once this week. I have been needing my inhaler more often and at times have struggled to breathe, but I cannot cope with the side effects.

It’s so weird how a person can proclaim their love, their protection and that no one else in the world matters and be gone the next day. Without a word.

I would give anything for a hour with my Dad and other people throw their family away. The injustice!

I am sickened by some peoples’ attitude to ward the protests against the brutality toward black people in America or here. White privilege is so obstructive one could fall over it and break one’s leg.

It isn’t only George Floyd. It’s Ahmaud Arbery. It’s Joy Gardner, Trayvon Martin, Michael Brown and so many, many more.

No one understands unless they’re black. I saw fear on my black friends’ faces when a cop car drove by, I understood why they were afraid, but I can’t even imagine it.

Racism, guns etc

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Please forgive the color of my skin. It says nothing about me except that I have certain ‘privilege’ that I did not demand, but should be the right of every person on this earth. I want to say that adding ‘ness’ to white does not mean one is bashing privilege or the institutions. The founding fathers did not want ‘blackness’ in what became the USA. A black was two thirds of a person. No woman counted.

The founding fathers realised their constitution was not perfect or just, and believed that future governments would correct and amend the constitution they wrote in a rush in Philadelphia. The only concession made was when Washington, in the South, was made the capital.

To say ‘whiteness would rather die than eat food from black hands’ is racist. To say the institutions discriminate against blacks and the poor directly and indirectly’ is not racist. The institutions of today have black members. Blackness attacking whiteness is racism. There is no such thing as ‘reverse racism’. Society favours white people, especially rich white people. Everyone should fight this in every way they can.

I am not embarrassed to say that white people have designed their historical conquests to suit their comforts, expectations, culture, and sensibilities. They, we, have decimated the cultures and countries where people with different skin colour live and originate. We have imposed our needs, our sensibilities, everywhere we have gone.

In writing this, I can be accused of ‘sucking up’, appropriating the pain of another race, but in truth I am ashamed of being white and blue eyed. My life hasn’t been great, but I’ve made the most of what was given me. One of those things is critical thinking. I came to realise how disgusting and evil the white privilege is, that it soils every encounter with people from other races. I want to stand up and shout it to every white government and person, that our attitude is wrong, arrogant and ignorant.

I have had two guns pointed at me. I have felt that cold feeling, that instant of shock. I relate to that fear. I do not fear death, but I fear the insanity of guns, white privilege and racism. They are a vile mix.

Looking after others…

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  lulworth

Most of us, at some point in our lives, will look after someone whether it is an infant, child, parent or partner. Others do it as a their profession.

I no longer look after my daughter, as she is a young, professional woman whom I equipped with skills to do well in life. I miss looking after her, driving her to school, dance lessons, helping her with homework, dance costumes to sew, her sports gear washed and ready for the next event, sewing name labels on uniform and sports gear, cooking for her, giving answers to questions, discussing this that and the other. I miss her flinging herself on my bed, whether after school or later in the evening. We would chat about school, and she would rough-house with the dog. My bed moved around eight inches in 13 years due to this habit. The dog was always delighted when we were together on my bed, in this mode or both of us watching a DVD later in the evening.

Now I choose to take care of my cousin who has had a breakdown, and a young man I met when I had a mobile phone crisis on Christmas Eve, just when I wanted to be in touch with family and friends around the globe. It took three visits in all to make the correct diagnosis and upgrade my phone but I so didn’t want to part with my beloved, small, familiar phone. In the end I gave it to a friend. And now I love my ‘new’ secondhand upgrade. I refuse to buy every thing new, there is too much stuff on the planet. The young man was consistently helpful and I went in later to say hi. He began to chat with me and I realised he is full of stress and anxiety. His parents were both addicts and he had to leave home as Social Services said he was almost sixteen. His younger brother was taken into care. So his start in life has not been good. I send texts with prompts to remind him to keep trying a breathing technique, or to take a short walk and so on. I taught my cousin how to stop a panic attack. I’ve helped her to let go of stress. Every Sunday I take the young man lunch because he’s on his own in the store and can’t take a break. This ensures that I eat lunch too.

Caring for others often means caring for yourself too. If you’re making food for someone, you’re making food for yourself. If you’re reminding someone to keep trying the deep breathing, you will do it too.

I miss caring for my Dad. It was such a privilege. He gave me a good childhood (my mother did not) and provided everything I need. It’s natural to give that love back. (Not all of us are so blessed, like the young man I mentioned, whilst others throw away a relationship with a parent by causing hurt and distress through bad choices, like walking out of a good relationship because someone from the past decides they want you now). I am never surprised by what I hear about parental relationships, just sometimes surprised by whom that tale refers.