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Writer's pictureRegina Gordon

Marching on...

Updated: Feb 5, 2018



Today was emotional. I was woken by a thunderous rage shaking my windows followed by rain pelting relentlessly all around me. I laid there head flooded with thoughts before the time finally lulled me back to sleep.


I woke with a heaviness, an indignation to start the day. The storm was begging me to stay in, tucked under covers, hair undone, teeth grimy with sleep, a heart sick with grief. What will this day bring?


I won't watch. I can't watch. I'd rather walk half drunk with despair under an unconvincing veil of denial.


Still, I showered. Stayed a few extra minutes under water that I made a little extra hot. Maybe that would wash away the flagrant funk. As I dried off, my sweet boy whirled by, tazing me with an old electric toothbrush, delighted by his newfound superhero weapon. Of course I smiled... laughed even.


As I dropped Soren off to his nanny and pulled over to pick up a few casual carpoolers, I was still secretly hoping the protests would cause me to be met with gridlock traffic and I'd have the perfect excuse to crawl back into bed. But instead, to my disbelief, the roads were clear and I was forced to carry on.


"Oh wow, another one!" I snapped back to attention as my carpooler pointed off to the right. And there it was. Beyond the drizzle, amidst the gray was a beautiful rainbow. "Oh wow!" I said mimicking her excitement. I admit, it was forced. But as I drove out of the tunnel, bridge cables whirring past, I looked off to my left. A small hole in the drab, charcoal clouds opened up allowing the morning sun to burst through and glisten across a slim sliver of the bay.


I heard a small voice, "The light will always break through the darkness." OK, maybe heard is a stretch. But nevertheless, the thought was there. I felt my spirit get a little lighter. As I walked to the office, I spotted another rainbow. As I sat at my desk, I spotted a double rainbow. As I drove to pick up Soren, there was another. As I finished my last stretch home, another double rainbow. And with each rainbow, two words kept coming to mind: promise and hope.


I later drove to CVS to pick up some foam board... and two boxes of sour patch kids. As I slowed to the crosswalk an older woman crossed the lanes bit by bit, hobbling a little as she swayed back and forth under the weight of the bags she was carrying in the rain. I noticed her bare hands wrapped around each bag's handles and thought, she must be cold. I noticed her wet overcoat and thought, I wish she had a car or an umbrella. (As I write this, I wish I just invited her into mine.) I wondered, how is she feeling today? I wondered, is she afraid too?


I stood in the CVS line to pay for my items when I looked over and noticed two teenage girls giggling as they followed behind another teenage boy. I saw their young and playful energy. But then I wondered, do those girls know their value? Does he... know their value? I reflected back and was reminded how fragile my confidence was at that age. How I looked to all the wrong sources as I tried to validate who I was.


As I patiently waited, ensuring I gave enough personal space between me and the middle-aged woman in front of me, she turned to me with her kind eyes, and unapologetically smiled. She didn't need the space. In fact, she was inviting me into her space with her palpable warmth. She continued to pay for her items as I set mine down and amused she said, "Good choice," staring down at my Sour Patch Kids. We both laughed. I thanked her, we exchanged farewells and I completed my own purchase. I had a moment where I wanted to run after her and let her know that she was truly a bright spot in my day. But I didn't. She'd think I was crazy, right?


Why am I sharing all of this... because irregardless of our nation's circumstances, there still exists the opportunity to see people, to be curious about others, and also allow ourselves to be seen. As I unpack my fear in all that has happened, so much of it stems from the idea of people being disregarded, unseen, and unworthy of care. The fear that in an environment where divisiveness is commonplace, that we will give in to the lie that the only person who will care about us, is ourselves. That we are alone.


We... are never alone. And as I think about who I want to be in a situation that I can not change, I want to be vulnerable, to sacrifice for others, to not let my own fear of rejection or judgement deter me from being present with and for someone else. To not let my own preconceived ideas of a stranger hinder me from being curious.


We need that now more than ever.


So, as I prepare my heart for the Women's March tomorrow, I am reminded of Maya Angelou's stirring poem... "Still I rise". May we all give more. May we all love more. May we all continue to rise in the face of adversity until each and everyone of us is standing on solid, level ground.

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DEAR MAMA

When imagining this blog, I wanted it both to be a place to support and encourage other Mamas (and Papas), and also to provide a space for me to write again. Think of Kids, Mamas, and Recipes as yours and Murmurs and Letters to My Boys as mine. But, I welcome you to explore it all in hopes we can feel more known and less alone along this journey together.

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