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Showing results for tags 'memories'.
Found 5 results
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It's been a long and crazy year. SP just left for work; we'll stay up & have a glass of Champaign when he gets home. Spent some time this week working on his house, but not as much as he would have liked. We have got a lot accomplished (I think). We made Hoppin' John for supper tonight, and there's enough for lunch tomorrow (a VERY Southern US dish for New Years that, in it's most basic form, contains rice, black eyed peas, ham and/or bacon, green bell pepper, and some cayenne pepper for a bit of heat). I'm going to attempt to make a tourtière [Quebec mixed-meat savory pie] for supper tomorrow night. Hopefully, it turns out well. Wish me luck. Our professional photographer should have our wedding pics done in the next few days; possibly as early as tomorrow. But thought I'd share this one of SP and I that my brother took [hope the link works]. We make each other very happy.
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memories Why do some stories make us emotional?
Mancunian posted a blog entry in Thoughts And Ideas That I'm Happy To Share
Has anyone ever wondered why some stories make us emotional, you know what I mean it's when you feel choked up or the hairs on the back of your neck stand up, or maybe cloud your eyes with tears. That's not the only emotions that some stories make us feel emotions can be positive or negative, good or bad or any way you want to express the range of emotions. I've just read a story that made me feel emotional, the truth is it actually made me cry. It sounds silly doesn't it and probably makes me sound like some kind of wuss. The story brought back memories from my childhood and no I didn't have a bad childhood, my siblings and I were privileged and grew up with good loving parents. The story reminded me of the last child that my parents fostered, as I stated in my chapter comment I'll only refer to him as P. P was the same age as me and when came to live with us he was very quiet and shy, daily he spent hours just sitting and looking out of the window and at night he had some of the most terrible nightmares, he often woke up crying drenched in sweat and urine. Although over time he opened up more during the day and often socialized with us, at night his nightmares lessened but never went away. During the times that my health wasn't so good P spent a lot of time with me reading, playing board games and just being there like a good friend. When P 'left us' I missed him and yes I cried, I'm not ashamed to admit it. He was the first boy I 'experimented' with and I was very fond of him. After living with us for five years and at fourteen years of age unknown to us he made his 'decision'. I've never really understood until now, not until I read this particular story and in some it has been quite cathartic and has given me some closure to his 'leaving'. It's an emotional read for me, if you want to read the story It was written by Tiffani Chin, @Tiff and is called Screams Taste Like Nectar. It is not P's story but there are a lot parallels to his. I don't know if this story or this post is of interest to others but I wanted to share this very insightful story and why it affected me. -
Attended the memorial for the wife of a faculty member today. They had planned on retiring this year (for the second time), take a position back with his Alma Mater that involved less work (his idea of retirement), and enjoying their time together. She was a sweet, kind, lovely woman -- but don't mistake that for weak. Not sure exactly how long they've been married, but longer than I've been alive. Between that and the weather changes making me ache, I've been mostly awake since 3am. Too much loss in the last year. 😢
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Twenty years ago today, on December 1, 1998, the Miami-Dade County Commission approved the addition of sexual orientation to the county’s human rights ordinance. The battle many had fought over the past year culminated in victory. A temporary achievement since the hateful Christian Coalition worked to place the decision on the ballot the following year. They lost. For over a year, I helped increase awareness, raise money, conduct outreach, lobby politicians, debate homophobes, and granted countless interviews to the media. I was called vile names by those professing their Christianity often enough my dislike for the religion became permanent. To this day, any mention of Christian values makes me frown. On that fateful morning, my boyfriend and I awoke in darkness and were in front of the Commission chambers by sunrise. With hateful chants as background, I spoke to National Public Radio, The New York Times, the Voice of America, Armed Forces Radio, and who knows how many more outlets in both English and Spanish. My fifteen minutes of fame thanks to the marketing people thinking I spoke well and came across as a level-headed individual. Ha! Seeing my name on the front page of the Times and listening to the NPR report the following morning was a thrill. I still have the newspaper and a cassette of the radio show. However, the most wonderful part of the experience was working with the men and women who made the day’s events possible. Maybe it was not on par with the promise made by the signers of the Declaration of Independence to “mutually pledge to each other our Lives, our Fortunes, and our Sacred Honor,” but to me it was close. The time and financial commitment made by many propelled us to victory. Liebe Gadinsky stands out amongst all. The mother of two and her husband became friends, and although we rarely communicate these days, I will treasure the time I spent with them for as long as I live. Liebe and Seth were proof that the fight for our humanity was not limited to GLBT community members, but encompassed caring individuals who felt discrimination was unjust. Many of you dislike and dismiss political involvement, I read the comments often enough when I posted a story revolving around a presidential campaign. As an aside, my involvement back then influenced much of what I wrote in that book. I would like you all to remember that without drag queens fighting in front of the Stonewall Inn in 1969 or volunteers canvassing throughout Miami in 1998, most of us would be hiding in the back of a closet too scared to live. Go out, give money, volunteer, make phone calls, write letters; do whatever it takes to elect individuals who will not treat us as second-class citizens. It was the experience of a lifetime and I am grateful I was part of such a momentous event. My participation also allowed me to keep a promise I made when the Anita Bryant-backed forces led to the overturn of a similar ordinance in 1977. I swore that if the issue arose again, I would not remain quiet. I am glad I did not. I’ll close with Margaret Mead’s words: “Never doubt that a small group of thoughtful, committed citizens can change the world; indeed, it's the only thing that ever has” https://www.nytimes.com/1998/12/02/us/2-decades-on-miami-endorses-gay-rights.html
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In honor of mother's day, I'd like to know what is your favorite memory of your mother. Mine was in 1997 when I officially became Jack Wimberly son of Betty Wimberly. She was my aunt by blood but my mother for three years before the adoption. She gave me my first birthday, my first Christmas, and a real family with my little brother. Without her I wouldn't know what love is.
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