Those Could ..Shoulda... Woulda... Moments

The news sometimes makes me feel as though we have created a society full of professional victims. The Martin/Zimmerman trial is a perfect example.  What was a series of unfortunate choices ended the life of a young man.  Zimmerman should not have tried to follow Martin but Martin was not a blameless victim either. Yet some people are trying to use race as the motivator and the media is jumping on the band wagon to make it headline news because this is a very marketable story.

The truth is that everyone will experience being a victim at some point in their life, this title isn't unique to one gender or one ethnic group. While it is true that the African Americans were made victims by money hungry land owners  weren't the American Indians equally victimized?  The  Scottish people were victims when Britain took their land and stripped them of their culture, women were victims in their own right for years and they still are in some countries.  After reading the book 'The Killing Fields' we must include the Cambodians in our list of victims, do not forget the Vietnamese, the LBG community,  and I cannot forget to mention the Jews who were held captive, starved, tortured, and slaughtered by Hitler.   I have to ask myself, if Zimmerman were German and Martin were a Jew, what would the  headlines say?  What  I find disturbing is the fact that we have two people who each handled a situation poorly. The case was tried by a Jury and the Jury reached a verdict.Yet, instead of focusing on the fine line between murder and self defense, which is what this should be about, this has turned into a debate that focuses on racism. 

Every one will be a victim at some point in their lives.  History reminds that every group has been victimized at some point in history and everyone of us is at risk for experiencing a setback as we move through life. When bad things happen we are left with two choices, we can hold onto a bitterness that will eventually turn to hate or we can learn from our experiences then move forward with unstoppable resilience to make this world a better place.

 

 

'Cause yesterday's got nothin' for me
Old pictures that I'll always see
Some things could be better
In my book of memories
Prayers in my pocket
And no hand in destiny
I'll keep on movin' along
With no time to plant my feet

'Cause yesterday's got nothin' for me
Old pictures that I'll always see
Some things could be better
If we'd all just let them be

Guns N Roses

Yesterday

 

 

 

My life has not been perfect. I have had instances where I was the victim, life was unfair, bad things happened that I had no control over, or I made a mistake that I now regret.  However, we reap what we sow.  Dwelling on the "coulda..shoulda ...woulda" parts of the past is not only unproductive, these thoughts are like weeds that try to take over my garden.  Those who spend time wallowing in anger and bitterness could make better use of their emotion by telling their story in a way to make productive change.  We have the power to damn or to liberate ourselves by how we respond to the bad things in life.  Focusing on the bad things will hinder our progression but focusing on the possibilities is what will keep us moving in the right direction.

All of those bad things that happened in our history are tragic and really shouldn't have happened but no one can change the past.  All we can do now is to learn from history and then use unstoppable resilience to try and make a better future.  Happiness is a choice and my choice is to prevent those weeds from taking over my garden so I can create plenty of room for the flowers  to grow. 

Disclaimer:  If I  forgot to mention someone who is a victim in this writing then consider this my acknowledgement that, I didn't mean to contribute to your victimization by not acknowledging you  and I am sorry that I didn't bring attention to your "coulda..shoulda...woulda" moments.

Airports and Hospitals

Walking into the airport this afternoon I was filled with emotion.  Part of my emotional response came from a sense of sadness because my daughter was leaving and it will be quite some time before I will get to see her again.  However, even without my own personal drama, the two places that always touch some emotional part of me  are airports and hospitals.  After giving it some thought, I realized that these two places are the nucleus of constant change. It is at the Airport or the Hospital where someone important to me either came into my world or was removed from it.

My first memory of the airport was when my brother was being deployed to Vietnam. I was in kindergarten at the time and I didn't really understand what was happening. A few weeks later I went with my parents to see a movie and discovered the tragedies of war.  I had nightmares for days afterward.  To this day I still avoid war movies and the sight of a man in uniform boarding a plane makes my throat tighten with emotion. 

As a teenager my boyfriend joined the air force.  After taking him to the airport, and watching his plane lift off as he headed for boot camp,  I felt intensely sad watching someone I cared about leaving for an indefinite period of time.  I recall that I cried for some time after he left. When he got his first leave to return home, he stepped off the plane wearing a leisure suit that his mother had made for him. He had warned me ahead of time but that orange and green plaid suit with pants that were about three inches too short and the matching tie still made my jaw drop.  Although the relationship didn't last, the memory of that suit is still fresh in my mind.  It was a testament to his respect for his mother that he actually wore that suit in public.  Each time I pass the old airport terminal I smile as I remember that orange plaid suit.

While he was alive, my father in law would visit us once a year.  He would exit the ramp with his baseball cap that had a Blue Jay insignia on it.  As he approached he would try to mimic an American accent and say "Well...Hello Guys!"  I would laugh every single time.  It hurts to know  he is gone and that I will never again see that exit but I think of him each time I wait at the airport for someone to arrive or see a replica of his baseball cap. 

As I watched my beautiful daughter walk off to board her plane I stood for a moment silently watching and remembering.   Although my baby girl is a young woman now, in my mind I still sense the little girl who used to come with me to the airport skipping along beside me and talking nonstop. Her sweet smile and cheerful little voice helped ease the pain of the many goodbyes I had in  airport terminals and her enthusiasm made the arrivals just that much more exciting.

I suppose that watching my little girl, who is now a young woman, walk toward her gate is simply part of life's rite of passage.  We are born into the world only to spend the rest of our lives experiencing constant arrivals and departures before making our own permanent exit while that part in the middle remains at a place of constant change.  I am looking forward to the day that either my daughter or I will step off of the airplane ramp for our next greeting.  With each plane that I see fly overhead, I focus on this thought.  I miss her  and I look forward to that day more than she will ever know.