Help a sister

I am confused. I have been getting notes and emails from friends about what a Barack Obama presidency will mean and that I'm unAmerican, unChristian and unSaved because I support him. 

Please. Are you kidding me?!

This country is heading down the wrong path. The Bush presidency is/has been a disaster. Contrary to what one person wrote, God didn't have a candidate in election.

People have the prerogative to vote for whomever they want to vote for because of how they see the world. I'm interested in health care for all Americans, an economy that doesn't cater to just the rich and greedy and an administration that recognizes America is part of the world, not an island unto itself.

Call me crazy, but I am American, Christian and Saved and I approve this message: "Yes WE can!"

Three words

"Yes we can!"

After we already did, we have a lot of work ahead of us and I'm convinced now more than ever ... "Yes we can!"

Celebrating Life in death

Wednesday, we buried my grandmother, my father's mother. She was 91. My name, Karen, is a derivative of her name, Carrie. On the middle name,  no derivative,  just flat out Louise, like her.

Her funeral was glorious as we celebrated a life well-lived to its fullest. 

My grandmother loved the Lord, assisting with a weekly Bible study at her senior citizen home, and faithful in her attendance and service to her church.

My grandmother was hearty; when most people were settling down, she was just getting started. Her husband died when she was 69. After his death, she moved out west to be with my cousin who was living in California. 

In 1997 when we celebrated her 80th birthday, I remember learning about her and all the knucklehead things my father and his siblings used to do. She survived a lot, including being a single parent.

But, it was in her death I realized how much she loved life, lived life and in death, was at peace.

There are many times when people die, you can tell they were not at peace. Not so with Grandma Green. She was beautiful and peaceful laying in the coffin.

The reminder of how much she loved life came from the fact that seven years ago, at age 84, she was aboard the QE2 for a two-week world cruise. It was one of five cruises she took. I remember the cruise she took of Asia about five years ago. During her annual trek East to Pittsburgh to visit, she brought me souvenirs from that journey, including a fan from China and a bookmark from Japan. 

The last time I visited with my grandmother was in August. She had recently had a bout with pneumonia and was no longer living at her senior citizens home. She was at a nursing home, and she was somewhat weakened, but still had fire. She was ready to go to war over her Aflac duck that was placed out of her sight. Thankfully, I found it, saving I don't know how many people. ;-)

In death, my grandmother has reminded me to live life to its fullest, doing things that I love and not living with regret because there may be a time when I will regret not living.

That was some speech Palin gave...

Sarah Palin's speech was good talk ... She zinged old Barak, but said nothing of substance. 

If she really wanted to introduce herself to the country the right way, she should explain why she flip-flopped on the infamous "Bridge to Nowhere," explain why Clinton is a whiner and she isn't, explain why she and her husband get a pass explaining how they parent with a teen-age pregnant daughter and why the city she was the mayor of had more than $20 million in debt after she left. See, that's riveting television for those of us who care about issues. 

Before you ask, I'm not beating up on the 17-year-old. It is her parents' judgement I'm calling into question. By the way, when is the wedding?

Then there was the washed up Rudy Giuliani. When the only arrow you have in your quiver is how you responded on 9/11/01 — you need to get a life — not another wife — a life. 

Old Sarah girl had some great one-liners, but it's going to take more than one-liners to get to the White House. The difference between a pit bull and hockey mom may be lipstick, but the difference between a winner and a loser is substance. Her speech motivated me ... to go help Obama!

A historic night

How do you spell progress — Barack Obama.

Thursday afternoon the historic significance of Obama's nomination hit me — this is something my grandparents probably thought they would never see, it's something my mother prayed for and it's something that I knew would eventually come, I just didn't know when. But now my nieces and nephews, great nieces and great nephew will know that it's true —as an African-American you can aspire to the highest office in the land.

Thursday night we saw progress ... we are moving in the direction of making Martin Luther King Jr.'s dream a reality. 

Whether Obama wins or loses, our country has taken one great big step to realizing that we are a country of equals and regardless of whether we are black, white, green, red or yellow, we can dare to dream and sometimes, dreams do come true.

Both sides of the coin

OK, today, I found out in Maryland Chick-fil-A is apparently the place to go for the 13 and under crowd. What happened to McDonald's?

It was quite the little outing. Lots of noise and lots of business, too. In one corner was a couple closing on a house, in another was a group (most likely related) of about 15 people and then a group of women talking business at another table. In all of this there was a bunch of commotion because somebody shattered the glass in the restaurant's main door. But, that didn't take center stage until after there was a dispute about a 14-year-old boy playing in chicken land (or is it cow land) with a 3-year-old autistic girl. A parent, whose own children were climbing on the bars like the sign asks them not to, was a little miffed about the teen with the little girl. He rightfully complained to the manager, who tried to explain the reason the teen was with the girl was because of the child's autism. However, the father was still uncomfortable with such an arrangement and the teen and autistic girl left the play area.

Then the group (which was Addams-family like) started to complain and asked if autistic children should just die.

Autism wasn't the issue. The issue was the teen-aged boy in the play area sliding around like he was 7 or 8. The father didn't get concerned until after the teen-aged boy almost landed on his daughter, who was probably 5. The father correctly pointed out the teen exceeded the height requirement for the play area. Maybe the mother, instead of moaning and groaning about how poorly her child was being treated, should have gone to her child's defense by helping her climb through the mazes in the play area.

In these kinds of situations it is the wisdom of Solomon that is required. There are two side to the coin and even though I see each side, I feel the 3-year-old was treated shabbily by the father  and her clueless mother.

The prodigal

I guess I'm no prodigal. I don't want to return to my homeland like the young man in the parable after the misspent days of his youth. I didn't exactly misspend all of my days, but I had my moments. I guess since I'm not eating from the pigs trough I'm not likely to try to return to the home of my parents seeking a ring, a place to live and a good meal. Even though my mother provides all of that (minus the ring) during this time of transition.

It is wonderful to be in the car with my mom and to share with her. It has just confirmed what I  already knew — I am her favorite. 

We have been having a lot of fun. We think alike on a lot of things. We notice some of the same things and sometimes, say the same things. We get to laugh about the same things and are outraged by much the same things. Like what you may ask...

Today, when we were riding back to my grandmother's house, a nicely dressed woman was walking down the street and suddenly, she started scratching her butt. In my mind, I thought, "That lady acts like she's got fleas." A few seconds later my mom says, "Now that lady is dressed all nice scratching her butt like she has lice or something. She should of at least tried to twist a little so she didn't have to scratch." I started laughing. I said, "I wasn't going to say anything. She was scratching like she has fleas."

I guess you had to be there. But it was funny and now I know that I am more like my mother than I like to admit. (There Renee ... you happy?)

Being back in Pittsburgh is like a tale of two cities. Against a backdrop of decay are signs of progress and economic boom. However, the economic boom happens to be sporadic the more you get into the city and the less affluent a neighborhood is. It is really funny to see a house that has wonderful upkeep and could be in the pages of Home and Garden next door to a house that is board up with graffiti all over it. 

Then, I'm struck by how the streets are taken care of in the less affluent neighborhoods vs. the affluent neighborhoods. Nothing surprises me, it's just amazing people don't put up more of a fuss.