School Shooting Drills in Kindergarten? - Our Kids New Reality

Every time I hear a news headline about another school shooting I just get so angry that we allow this to happen.  That we cannot do something to reduce the number of guns that get into the hands of nut-bugs who think its worth 15 minutes of fame to walk into a school of defenseless children with guns in hand (guns that they should never have been allowed to have in the first place) and murder as many children and teachers as they can.
It makes me angry that my Kindergarten and Second Grade grandchildren have to do 'shooter drills' at school.  That parents & grandparents have to be locked outside because of fear that one of us might be one of those nut-bugs.  That our school staff has to fear being killed when they go to work, at a wage that is already too low for the work they do, much less for hazard pay.

Why do we allow the NRA to have power over the peace and lives of children?  Why do we allow nut-bugs to get their hands on weapons legally when they have are obviously nut-bugs...in many cases their family, friends, neighbors, and co-workers know they have mental illnesses, but we allow them to legally buy guns at gun shows without even a check of their criminal or mental status.  We don't punish the people in their lives who make access to guns easy, like the mother of Adam Lanza (Newtown Killer) who purchased all of the guns and ammunition that he used to kill 20 children and 6 adults (including her). 

If we enforced gun registration like we do vehicle registration there would be less guns in the hands of nut-bugs because people who owned them and registered them in their name would not let them so easily get into the wrong hands.  No it would not solve the problem completely, but geez at least there would be some sort of maintenance over them.  If you had to register your gun like you do your car there would be an easy way to track who owned the gun used in the commission of a crime.  If you borrow my car and go kill someone with it, I am also liable... why shouldn't guns be that way?  If I want to drive a car I have to take a drivers training course and test for it, but I don't have to even know how to properly load a gun to get one of those.  If my car is stolen, I can report it and the VIN will help identify it if someone else is trying to sell my stolen vehicle...why not have that with guns?

The problem is, so many people buy into the bullsh!t that the NRA wants you to believe.  That President Obama wants to 'Take away your guns!" As depicted in this cartoon...

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However, THIS is more the Reality of gun control...

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What this is really about...Obama.  Sadly that is what it all boils down to.  The republicans have made it their goal to obstruct anything and everything that President Obama is for.  If he was against gun control I would be willing to bet they would be for it. 

When Ronald Reagan was Governor of California (see more about this story here) and had the BaJeezus scared out of him by the Black Panthers walking into the Capital building with loaded weapons, he proposed gun control so that no loaded weapon could be carried in any city in California except by law enforcement...and the Republicans supported him.   So maybe when the NRA (and Republican Politicians who are afraid of them) get the BaJeezus scared out of them, or one of their own children or grandchildren are killed at school by some nut-bug with an assault rifle and a bazillion round clip full of bullets, then maybe they will stop fighting 'Doing the Right Thing' for the safety of our kids.

This is not how I want my grandchildren to leave their school...

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Spending Too Much Time Looking Back?

Sometimes does it feel like you are spending too much time looking back. 

In the case of this scooter, it appears like you are being more cautious if can see clearly whats behind you.  But in reality, it will cause your more harm by looking back instead of forward.  Living your life always looking back is no different.  If you are dwelling on the past, you will miss the present and tarnish the future. 

For the better part of my 50+ years I kept allowing the past (my painful childhood) to stay ever present in my thoughts.  Somehow I thought, not on a conscience level I'm sure, that I could fix it, make it better.  I had a verbally abusive mother who neglected me emotionally and transferred her own self-hatred on to me...as a means for her to unburden herself of the negative feelings she felt.  I spent all of my childhood and most of my adulthood trying to somehow win her affections.  To convince her that I was lovable and had some worth.  It didn't work however, she wasn't capable of loving me 'the child' or me the adult.  We hadn't had any contact for at least the last 4 years when I decided that something needed to change.

In the beginning of my 50's I decided it was time for some kind of therapy to help me let go of this.  I couldn't move on in my life if I couldn't stop looking back.  I did several sessions of E.M.D.R. treatment with a specially trained therapist.  In doing so, I was finally able to open all those hurtful emotional times from my childhood and look at them now through the eyes of an adult - a strong, independent adult at that.

After one particularly difficult session I spent the next several days actually feeling the emotions of my hurt child-self, but while being this strong adult.  It was so very helpful in sorting out what baggage was mine, and what was my mothers that was forced upon an innocent child just wanting to be loved.  One night just about a week after that session I had a nightmare that turned out to not be scary at all.  Through this dream I was able to finally see myself, through my mothers eyes.  It was the wildest thing I've ever experienced.  I woke up very upset, but as my mind sorted through every tiny detail of the dream I came to understand completely how my mother was unable to love me...it wasn't me at all, it was her inability to love...anyone including herself.

That was the first time in my life that I was honestly able to forgive her for all the pain she caused me in my childhood.  I previously thought there was no way I was ever going to accept that I needed to forgive in order to let go.  I thought that would be condoning her behavior.  But suddenly I realized that her awful treatment of me had nothing to do with me.  It wasn't because I looked too much like my father (who she hated), it wasn't because I was too needy, it wasn't because of the color of my hair, or the extra weight she thought I needed to lose.  I did look more like my father, and I was desperately in need of love and tried so hard to win her affections, and my hair color was the opposite of hers, and I was a skinny child forced to follow drastic diets because she felt fat.  Everything negative she expressed to and about me, was how she felt about herself.  It had absolutely nothing to do with me. 

Almost immediately upon having this 'revelation', if you will, I was able to let it go and stop looking back.  Previously I could not talk about my painful childhood, or my mother, without tears welling up in my eyes and my lower lip beginning to quiver.  I could not look in the mirror and smile lovingly at the person looking back at me because my mother had convinced me that that person was unlovable.  But now I had finally released the emotions attached to that pain.  That was about a year ago and I have not looked back since.  I did not tell my mother that I forgave her, because it wasn't about her.  I don't want her in my life, but now I don't feel anger or guilt related to that choice.  I am finally moving forward without any of the pain pulling me back in time.  I am finally free.

Lunch With Archie Bunker?

Remember this couple?

Archie and Edith Bunker.  The character of "Archie, the bigoted working class man" was played by Carroll O'Conner, who was definitely playing the roll, because he was a liberal in real life.  This couple entertained us once a week from 1971 to 1983 and for many years to come in syndication.  I 'loved' the cranky old bigoted character Archie and felt sorry for Edith who had to live with this awful man. In many ways Archie reminded me of my own father.  But ultimately I grew up to be more like the actor who played Archie, liberal in my politics.

It's been over 30 years since that show stopped airing weekly, but Archie lives on in some people still to this day.  I know that because we had lunch with an ' Archie' one day -not by choice.  It all started one lovely Saturday just before noon...

My husband and I went to a fresh baked goods cafe to enjoy a nice lunch. We arrived shortly before noon, thinking we could beat the lunch rush, but apparently everyone else had the same idea because they were slammed.  We didn't see an open table in the place but a kind gentleman waved at me from a large table that would seat eight.  He said he had been with a big group that left a moment ago but he was still working on some paperwork so we could share the table with him.  We accepted his offer and sat down at the opposite end of the table so we wouldn't disturb his work.  Moments later an elderly couple was standing near us, looking around for a table themselves.  I passed on the offer of sitting at our table since it was plenty big enough for all of us.  They accepted my offer and sat in the two seats directly across from us.

The woman of the couple chatted with me about getting her garden started this spring, while her husband went to the counter to order.  She was pleasant and I enjoyed our brief moments of chit-chat while our husbands were up placing our orders.  I thought we might continue to have a pleasant conversation once our husbands returned, but that was not to be.

The moment her husband sat down he began complaining about the foreigners who owned the complex we were dining in. Called them Muslims, (he could tell this by their last names) and made derogatory statements about them. Said he was surprised we got such good food for this fair price.  How he connected the owners of the building, with the food quality and price set by the cafe owners leasing the space, I didn't get, but he tried to make a connection. My husband tried to make light of his comments by saying that this complex was dying out before the new owners came in and now the shops all seemed to be doing better. That went right past this man so I suppose he wasn't listening to my husband. He continued saying how the Muslims are taking over our country. My husband and I turned and gave a knowing look at each other, speaking the silent language that longtime couples use without saying a word.  We were both dissapointed that we offered to share our table with this couple.  The single man sitting at the other end of the table who shared it with us, was now gone. I assume he was either done with his work or didn't want to listen to this bigoted triad.

Eventually the man changed the subject (sort of), as he linked "those Muslims" to our president, "that black guy.' Who in his opinion was also a Muslim, and running this country into the ground. We gave each other that look again, this time saying in our silent language, "Is there another table open in this place?" We both looked around and saw that it was still standing room only.  If body language said anything, we were speaking volumes when we both turned our chairs towards each other and our heads as far away from his direction as possible. But he didn't pick up on our body language.  And our complete silence in this 'conversation'' seemed to go unnoticed as well because this man went on and on with his bigot rant thru the rest of the meal.  It wasn't a long, relaxing meal with small talk over a delicious lunch that we planned, we crammed our food down as quickly as we could so we could get the hell away from this man and his ignorant, negative rantings.  In that short 15 minutes time he covered his dislike for Muslims to the President of the United States, to black people and Africans in general, to singles mothers and even to the LGBT community.

Once we left the cafe we were glad to be free of that man, but felt sorry for his wife who had probably been with him a long time. She didn't join him in spewing hate, but she didn't give him the knowing married couple look either, the one that would have said, "Shut up, you are offending these people who might have a different view of things!" Or as Edith would have said, "Oh Archie!"


Ami Jo

I Witnessed Her Spirit

Before I tell you about my personal experience with a spirit, I want you to know that I am not a religious person.  I do not feel there is one God, nor is there one religion that is better than another.  I do feel there is a Higher Power, but that may be different things for different people.   I personally try to live an honest life without knowingly bring suffering to another.  I do believe in Karma and therefore try to always be honest and pure in my actions and thoughts.

So, with that being said, I want to share an experience I had many years ago while working in a nursing home.  It is the closest I have ever come to witnessing a spirit life, here on earth. 

One evening when I arrived at work at the nursing home at 10:00pm for my shift, I was informed about a new patient, who I will call Helen, that was brought to our facility because her family could not manage her at home.  Helen was in her late 50's and in the late-stages of untreated syphilis that was now effecting her brain and therefor her behavior was out of control.  Helen's misbehavior was that she would strip her clothes off and wonder the halls if she was out of our watchful eye for even a few moments.  At her families request, her doctor had prescribed a strong medication that was supposed to sedate her so she would be more manageable, but it seemed to have no effect on her.

I spent my entire evening watching Helen undress like she had spent her lifetime as a pole dancer.  I personally redressed her multiple times that night.  Sometimes as I was struggling to put her clothes back on, she would be stripping them off of another area of her body.  I felt so bad for her because her family said she was a very modest woman and would never have dreamed of acting out like this before.  The family told us that Helen's husband had cheated on her often throughout their marriage and apparently brought her home the gift of Syphilis which she did not discover until it was too late to treat it effectively.  So here she was in our facility, basically dying from this illness that her husband gave her with his unfaithfulness.

The next evening when I returned to work I was informed that during the day Helen went into a coma and was taken the the ER.  They returned her that evening, still in the coma, because they said there was nothing they could do for her.  This was so sad, such a waste of a good woman's life.  Since it was inevitable that she was probably going to die, they didn't want to put her in a room with an elderly person that might get upset if she passed in their presence, but her family could not afford a private room.  So it was decided to put Helen in a room with a young woman (in her early 40's) who I will call Mary.  Mary had her full mental faculties but was dying from cancer.  Mary had already made peace with her own death and happily agreed to allow this woman in a coma to share her room.  Mary was one of my favorite patients because we were about the same age and she and I enjoyed each others company during my shift and with her insomnia filled nights. Mary was in the bed nearest to the window because she enjoyed watching the activity outside during the day and star-gazing at night.

Helen was placed against one wall in the first bed, with the curtains pulled around her half of the room for privacy.  No family was with her during the night shift.  I would check her vitals and reposition her every two hours to prevent bed sores.  Knowing that Helen would likely pass away very soon, I had opened the window a few inches in their room.  This is sometimes done in nursing homes because many of the Native American patients believe that the window should be open to allow their spirit to leave.  This was not my belief, but I always wanted to respect the wishes of my patients, so I made it a rule to always do this just in case that was the patients preference but they were unable to communitate that to me.

After my 2nd round for the evening I went to the end of the long hallway that had 24 doors on each side of the hall.  The lights were all turned off in the rooms and only limited lights were on in the hall, so the light would not disturb anyone who may be sleeping.  I was facing the long hallway talking to another nurse who had her back to the hallway.  While talking to her I saw, just over her shoulder, a very bright light shinning out of Mary and Helen's room.  It was suddenly lit up, then just a suddenly it was gone, as if someone had turned on a flood light in the room, then a few seconds later turned it off.  I told the nurse, "Excuse me a moment, there was just a very bright light coming from one of my rooms, I need to go see what the heck is going on."  Mary, the cancer patient, was unable to get out of bed without assistance so it's not like she got up and turned on the overhead lights, and her bedside lamp isn't bright enough for that, and Helen's curtains were pulled around her part of the room, blocking Mary's view into the hallway.

When I walked into the room, Mary called out to me, "Ami, did you see that?" I said, "I saw something, what are you doing?"  She said, "I was just laying here awake and I heard Helen exhale kind of loudly, then there was a bright light that was on her side of the curtain, it almost blinded me.  I closed my eyes and it seemed to go through the room towards the window, then it went dark again."  This gave me chills up my arms and the back of my neck. 

I went behind the curtain to check on Helen.  She was of course very still being in a coma, but I noticed I could not hear her breathing.  I put my hand up to her nose and there was no warm breath.  I pulled my rolling cart in the room and checked her vitals but could not get a pulse or blood pressure.  She had passed away. 

The only explanation for the light happening at this moment was that Helen had died and her spirit had indeed left her body and exited the window, right passed Mary as she lay in her bed awake, but with her eyes closed because of the bright light passing over her.

I have never experienced anything like this before or since, but it gave me a whole new believe about whether or not spirits exist.  I believe without a doubt that they do.