When traveling, I like to catch up on movies in my hotel room. The Ruth Bader Ginsberg movie, On the Basis of Sex, is a walk down history lane and should possibly be required-watching for all Americans. It is easy, when reciting a gratitude list, to omit and take for granted today’s equality for both men and women. It was a mere 40 years ago that men were not recognized in a court of law as care givers and therefore disqualified from tax relief and other compensations like women. Likewise, women weren’t recognized as head of household, thus unable to apply for credit cards or a mortgage without a husband’s signature.
It’s not the expensive, black jacket that I bought but, rather, the on-sale, red leather, fringed jacket that I didn’t buy that preys on my subconscious of regret.
When I was young, I envied those girls who were content to stay home on a weekend night and read or wash and set their hair. I, on the other hand, couldn’t stand to miss out on a single party.
As you can imagine, I had lots of comments about my decision to stop selling the Confederate battle flag. My favorite response was from a lady who was in favor of my decision. Her closing words were “Not today, Satan, not today!”
Shortly after my announcement, I got a visit from my friend, Randall, who also happens to be the President of the Sons of the Confederacy in Arkansas. He, as he put it, “Came in defense of my ancestors.” I was expecting him.
We think nothing of videoing weddings. They are all over Youtube. But what about funeral videos? Personally, I love funerals. It is a gathering of family and friends who tell funny or endearing stories and remember only the good of the person they’re saying goodbye to. It is a celebration of a person’s whole life, not just a single moment in time. And it is just as emotional, if not more, than other rites.
May 21st was my husband Grady’s two year sober anniversary. Two and a half years ago, during Christmas break from college, our youngest son sneakily invited his father out to lunch. Unbeknownst to Grady, much of the family, our priest and I lay in wait with a plan for intervention. The date was December 23, 2016.