A Loving Day Affection

There’s a family that lives down the road from me. I’ve only spoken with them a couple of times, yet I have a strong affection.

The reason, their children play. Like, really play. Play the way I remember it as a child. They shoot basketball, and climb up the tree in their front yard — I see this as I pass their house en route home — ride bikes, and even set up a lemonade stand on hot summer days.

There are many children in my neighborhood. I know this because I go through like six huge bags of candy on Halloween, even when it’s downpouring, and I hear the occasional squeal or scream. But I do not see them that often.

When I was a child (yes, I’m at the age where I can start using that), we overtook the neighborhood. Admittedly, there was many a day when staying inside playing Nintendo would’ve been just fine, but we were kicked out on the streets. Our parents did not want to see us until dinner was ready.

Even in that short time a lot has changed, and I get that in this day and age shoving your children out the door and not caring about, or even knowing, their whereabouts for six hours, is no longer smart or acceptable practice. There is just too much to worry about. But still, it absolutely amazes me how little I see these children. You would think they’d be out and about a lot more than they are.

In any case, my fondness for this family is more than just their kids playing. They genuinely, from the small amount I’ve seen, seem like good people, with strong family values and they really seem to love each other. They all go to church together — I know because in my old days as a reporter I took pictures at, what happened to be their church, on Christmas Eve of the live nativity scene, of which they were all apart (adorable) — which by itself I know doesn’t mean much. Lots of not-so-together families go to church together each Sunday, but they seem really involved and again to enjoy being around each other. It’s just an instant feeling you get when you see them. On Halloween they travel in a pack together (there are four children).

OK, so before I sound any more like a freaky stalker lady than I already do, let’s get to the bottom of where this is all going.

This is an interracial family. The mother is white. The father is black.

Why bring this up, you say? Well, I’ll tell you.

On June 12 — or thereabouts — was the celebration of Loving Day.

Loving Day commemorates the anniversary of Loving v. Virginia (1967), the landmark Supreme Court decision that legalized interracial marriage in the United States. For those of you who may not know, interracial marriage was at one time illegal in many states in the U.S. And in fact some members of congress had even proposed the ban be a constitutional amendment.

From www.lovingday.org:

“Almighty God created the races, white, black, yellow, Malay, and red and placed them on separate continents, and but for the interference with his arrangement there would be no cause for such marriages. The fact that he separated the races shows that he did not intend the races to mix.”
- Judge Bazile, Caroline County, VA, 1965.

The couple who won the case was Mildred and Richard Loving. Brief overview (check out wiki or lovingday.org for more details): She was black and he white. They married in D.C., moved back to VA to live — not realizing what they had just done was illegal — and were subsequently forced to leave the state or serve jail time. They relocated back to D.C. and began the courtroom journey. Richard died some years back from a car accident and Mildred just passed on May 8.

So let’s consider this for a moment. Once upon a time, you couldn’t marry a person of another color in certain states. And let’s face it, interracial marriage and relationships is still a topic that can get rather heated. Up until just a few years ago, I was still hearing the topic debated and almost inevitably I would hear the comment, “It’s fine, but what I’m concerned about is the children.”

Flash forward to now and this family I referenced. Yes, they are only one example, but their children are far more well adjusted, polite, happy, and quite frankly more like children, than many single-raced kids I’ve come across. The fact that  their parents have two different skin tones doesn’t seem to be much of an issue. Yet, only 41 years ago, there’s a possibility that they could’ve never been a family.

So, what is this all really mean. Well, I suppose this:

It’s a damn good thing that we now live in a world where two people are NOT denied the pleasure of sharing their lives together as a married couple because the government thinks it’s wrong or unnatural. And it’s damn good that some kids, like the ones two blocks away who are at this moment selling 25 cent glasses of lemonade, are not denied an incredibly loving and nurturing childhood with two caring and doting parents, because someone else feels it’s inappropriate or unhealthy.

It’s a damn good thing.

The Creepy Bugs are Attacking!!!

I’m not scared of no bug.

Spiders? Nothing. Stink bugs? Please. Centipedes, millipedes, whatever bring it on.

But then i saw it……

Fat. Like  a semi.

With tons of legs. And fur, I think. Yes, most definitely fur.

Moving across the floor like a bat out of hell.

I gasped. Fear struck, but I held my cool. No biggie. I could handle it.

Then…..

Another one. This one moving a bit slower. Cocky really.

This is more than just a creepy random bug. This is an epidemic. I am being overtaken by fat, multi-legged, fast-moving creatures.

Now, I am crouched on my coffee table desperately writing this in hopes that when they find me, there will be a record of what happened. The world will know that i didn’t just randomly croak in the crouched position on my coffee table over my laptop with a stained tank top on and frizzy hair. Had I known this would be the end, I would have at least worn a bra. i don’t want the EMT to think I’m skanky.

So to all my readers, the three of you know who you are, thank you and if you don’t hear from me in a few days you will know what happened. Tell the world.

Or, I will finally get the courage to go to bed and forget about this in the morning. Either way, have a good night.