December 25. A white sheet blankets the street. A perfect scene on the outside. Much different on the inside. A blah 24th, with a stomach ache and fatigue. Happy smiles upon arrival. A casual but festive dinner. Grandma showing her age. I worry. She's only started looking her age in the past year. What does 99 look like anyway. Tree is lit with ornaments from a much happier past. The years go by and the family dwindles. No replacements, no scampering about by children. An average age in the mid-50's. It all feels so weird. A handful of present, I'm hoping of which none are mine. A gift on order to, still hasn't been shipped. It's been years since I've wanted anything for Christmas. Years. I need nothing more than to be surrounded by those who I care about and who return those feelings without question. It's so different that last year and the year before. Midnight texts to this one or that. Reaching out with words so kind, even if masked by something else. Today the phone sits with a game or two played. That is all. Life has changed for me so much. There isn't that usual special someone. It truly is an odd time, but maybe I should look at the bright side. It was a year ago today I had a little piece of my heart broken. It's mended fairly well, but still hard to forget. It amazes me it was a year. It's over and I've moved on, but days, a vision, a smell refresh the good and bad thoughts that pop in and out of this over thinking head. I'm thinking of a select few. A wave goodbye and a tight hug for recipients I wish I could have switched. I hop I told all those who I really care about deeply how much they mean. It's 5am and they will arise in three hours at the very latest. Oh to lay in bed until noon, with nothing more to look forward to than a hot cup of coffee and some eggs. In my mind it's a special day. In reality it's Tuesday without my kids. More than ever, I am hoping their days are spent happy, smiling and full of life. A white blanket covers the streets and I lay under one of my own. Waiting, wanting sleep, but thoughts, those darn thoughts, just floating in my head. Wishing I could see my mother this morning. Nine Christmases since and it's never been the same. Back to hopefully grab another two hours of sleep. Hoping it's enough time to for her to come visit my dreams.
This was a post I wrote on Facebook after surprisingly not seeing any moaning about the Documentary by Jose Antonio Vargas, titled White People Dayyum! I just scrolled my timeline and not a single white person got their feelings hurt by White People. I unfortunately haven't seen it, but the number of fake accounts that popped up on twitter, tells me it was a damn good show. Here's the thing. If someone of color aka non-white says "White Privilege," are you offended? If you said yes, then you are exhibiting white privilege. It has nothing to do with how hard you work or study, how you stayed out of trouble, because here's the thing, that is entirely the point. Somewhere out there, there are 100 Black, Spanish, Native American, Arab, Asian, who worked and studied as hard as you and never got in trouble, but they don't have what you "earned" or achieved. Stop looking at the one person you know who isn't white that achieved as your benchmark. Loo
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