THE WEEKEND

The weekend was positively lovely, until 10:00 PM Saturday when one of Heather’s beagles, Edie, chose violence towards her very elderly sister Boo. But that’s another story (maybe) and sweet Boo Boo is now sporting an atrocious new haircut, requires daily eye drops and an antibiotic. She’s fine. It was more traumatic for Heather and everyone is going to be okay. The rest of our time was carefree and filled with bubble wine. We moved around slowly Saturday morning, eventually making our way to the Iowa State Capitol for the No Kings Rally. I’m not sure what I expected. I have not had the heart to attend any of the previous rallies that have happened in Kansas City. I think a part of me believed that I would be depressed by a minuscule crowd of people.

This was not the case on Saturday.

Thousands of people gathered at the State Capitol building in protest of Trump and his horrific administration. This was also true in Kansas City and cities all across this country. I saw signs in support of funding peer reviewed science and the importance of vaccines. I saw signs in support of our immigrant communities and health care. I saw signs supporting our farmers who are struggling to get decent prices for their crops because of the tariff situation. We heard speeches from local business owners and representatives. There were so many different inflatable costumes! And…there was joy on peoples’ faces. No one was yelling hatefulness. There was zero aggressive behavior, but I mean….inflatable costumes. Nothing says “I’m a ridiculous jerk.” more if you are the type to punch or attack a person wearing an inflated unicorn costume.

I felt something break inside me the minute we stepped into this crowd and I was overwhelmed with emotion. I couldn’t speak and at any minute I could have started sobbing. I’ve been sitting with the why of this for a bit now. Then I was listening to Left, Right & Center on NPR during my drive home on Sunday where they were talking with Estee Zandee, the author of The Necessity of Pruning Our Busy Lives, an article published on The Dispatch. The beginning of this article starts with a description of a book club meeting Estee was attending. This was her first time joining; book clubs were not really her thing, but the invite came at time when she was feeling disconnected. What she discovered was that book club was only a little about the book and more about an open and honest, wide range of topics, dialogue amongst a group of women.

On the contrary, this neighborhood group of women was a terrible book club, but it was an incredible community. Unfiltered. Real. And it came with sticky coasters and focaccia crumbs. - Estee Zandee.

It is not that we do not have connection. I am connected to friends and family through daily group chats. At any moment I can open up my Instagram and know that there messages of shared reels waiting for me to laugh at. I send out birthday greetings to people weekly, but when’s the last time I wished a happy birthday directly to a person’s face? Actually…I did this last week with Nurse Jenn. Being able to wish someone a Happy Birthday to their face is a completely different experience. It is a true, less hollow, connection. It is a connection without the walls of distance or a cold screen.

Setting down our phones to fully interact with the people in the room is not a new concept. We’ve been hearing about the dangers of screen time and its impact on mental health for years now. The media constantly reminds us of all the ways we have become divided and disconnected from each other. And it is so easy to believe. It is so easy to feel alone and isolated. Being amongst that throng of people at the rally reminded me that I am not alone. I am not isolated. Some might say that rallies on Saturday were meaningless. What does it change? Karen Walrond wrote on her Substack “communal compassion is an act of rebellion.” and she’s not wrong. The No Kings rally was a moment for the communities to come together in compassion. Every person left that day feeling inspired and hopeful.

We left hungry for change and joyful that we don’t have to do the work alone.

LOVE THURSDAY

Silly faces make it harder to cry at goodbyes. We had a great, but too short of a visit with @birdpony and @admiralstarpony . Thank you guys for all of it. And love.

"Silly faces make it harder to cry at goodbyes. We had a great, but too short of a visit with @birdpony and @admiralstarpony . Thank you guys for all of..."

Monday morning I woke up to a text from Chad telling me that Facebook was saying that we'd been friends for six years. "Happy Anniversary" he wrote. I laughed of course because Facebook is silly, but then I was a little shocked by the six years. I told him that couldn't be right, it had to have been longer than that. Chad looked it up. He had pictures from that day where we all met for dinner. He sent me one he'd taken of me and Chris. Tears pricked the corners of my eyes. How could these two people look so happy? That look on Chris's face as he's looking at me has been captured in pictures so many times, it's all I know. I know that Chris looked at me with love. The date of the picture was proof that I had known Chad for six years now.

I told Chad that it still seemed longer. I said that I would have thought we grew up together. In a way, we did. Chad was taking an epic road trip across the country. We all met for dinner as he made his way through Oklahoma. Me, Chris, Amy, Brian and Chad. He said that we ate like Mediterraneans that night. We did. It was a Mediterranean restaurant and we lingered over dinner for hours. Chris played the part of Rosco, a hitchhiker Chad had picked up along the way. It was a running joke that had started as soon as Chad had left Atlanta headed for his adventures west. The beauty of Chris posing with a toothpick in his mouth and his hair all mushed down on his forehead was that no one in Atlanta knew Chris. They all easily believed he was really the crazy hitchhiker Chad had picked up. We were kids then. Joking around, laughing, dreaming. We still lived like we were in college with hand-me-down furniture from friends and family. 

Not long after that though, we'd all have to start dealing with very grown-up things.  Chad would lose his mother to cancer. We'd buy houses and lawnmowers. Amy and Brian would divorce. Some of us would move to knew towns and start new jobs. Chris would get sick and die. We just managed to fit forty something years of life into six years, that's all. I don't know how we did it or how the connection was made, but Chad has really turned out to be like a brother or a first cousin. Or a twin separated at birth. Maybe it's a past life connection. I have no idea. I just know that when Chad and I are in the same room we can laugh at the most absurd and ridiculous thing. I noticed a few times during our visit over the summer that whenever this would happen, Jess and Michael would look at each other and shrug with an unspoken "I have no idea what they are laughing at." Honestly I think half the time Chad and I don't either. 

It is just another example of the relativity of time. These are the kinds of connections that  you hold dear.  So, here's to those six years on this Love Thursday.