On 3/1/18, my autistic son Luke was placed in a group home. Luke is 25 years old and needed more support than his parents could sustain. I have shared past posts on my blog about Luke and his life. It is no small feat to navigate the Department of Social Services in matters of mental challenges and neurological disabilities.
I was born in Montgomery, Alabama on Maxwell AFB. It was in 1963 I entered the world. Visiting family annually is a usual tradition for me and I make it a point to take in a few of the sites when back to my hometown. The city had begun a restorative process a few years back showcasing its rich history. These are a proud people in a new generation wanting to bring truth to light. The National Memorial for Peace and Justice does that and is quite sobering.
The school hallway was packed with students. Working my way through the corridor to my next class, a boy grabbed me in my crotch. I turned my head around quickly to see the perpetrator. It was shocking to me that anyone would even consider grabbing me in that region of my body.
Me Who? The world was a different place back then. Who would care about me?
Back by popular demand-the scariest post I have ever written. I noticed my blog is blowing up with views. It always does at this time of the year due to this particular fun post I wrote four years ago while working on genealogy projects! It was a fun day. BOO!
We need to learn to let go. We hold onto things way too long that needs to be released. I decided recently I need to start judging. Yep. You heard right. Judge.
After carefully thinking through this, I am judging it all. How you taste inside me? What drew me to you? Where this will take me? It is true good or bad and now I am OK with judging. Watch out. I may prematurely put you to the test.
I promise you this post will make you laugh and be smarter than a 5th grader. I promise!!!!!
I was out of control in my mind listening to my urologist state matter of factly, “You need surgery.” Yeah. Right. ( note to readers- read italicized captions under pics after you read the post ) .
The arts mean more to me in my 50’s than any other previous decade of my life thus far. It may have to do with the fact I did not have as much time to appreciate and embrace human creative skills and imagination. I truly believe that the arts are meant to make us better people because of their beautiful and emotional power.