Author: Belinda O

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Peace, I Pray, For All

Yesterday I posted about my aunt’s death. I mentioned her daughter and granddaughter, who both preceded her in death. I want to remember them now with this picture taken a year before Zoë died in a car accident.

Sadly, Jenna was driving, although as far as I know, she was never faulted in the accident. Her best friend, Angel, also died in that crash. Angel was 25, and Zoë was four. Angel’s daughter, age five, survived and was raised by Angel’s father, who was only 41 when his only daughter died.

Jen died of an overdose four years ago. She was struggling with sobriety when she lost her daughter, and was never able to overcome her addiction.

It doesn’t take much to read the pain in this situation, and some of you have known your own tragic losses and have a blessed compassion. To all who suffer, I wish you peace here on earth.

I believe in an eternal and loving God, and a life everlasting in His presence. I pray they are living in that love now.

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Jen and Zo, December 24, 2000

Jennifer Content Moulton

October 12, 1977 – July 8, 2012

Rest in peace, Jenna, may you have found joy at last. I was always, always proud to call you my cousin.

Zoë Patricia Kloster

October 23, 1997 – December 2, 2001

Rest in peace, Zoë, the world was made brighter for the brief time we had you with us.

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Rest in Peace

My aunt died this morning, one week after her 70th birthday. It was sudden, yet not surprising.

I’d be lying if I said we were close. She lived her life in such a way I couldn’t be part of it, nor could most of her family. The courts kept her away from her grandchildren. Her only child, my cousin Jenna, died four years ago of an overdose. Her oldest grandchild, Jen’s little girl, died 14 years ago in a car accident.

Yet all lives matter. There are some good memories, and I choose to keep those close. More importantly, she was my mom’s sister, and there is a bond there that cannot be broken. My mom is mourning her loss, and therefore, I am, too.

It’s funny how we swing to the good when someone dies. We want to remember them as their best selves. I pray she is able to be that person now.

Rest in peace, Mary Carol. Say hi to Jenna and Zoë for us.

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Jenna and Mary, December 1982 (with Humphrey)
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“Proper” Wisdom

A high school teacher once told me, “the true meaning of sophistication is knowing what to do in the situation you’re in.”

Admittedly, that doesn’t make me any more sophisticated than with the popular definition, but it does give an added dimension to the ideas of sophistication, elegance and grace.

AdobeStock_96443843 [Converted] c geosap nbgHow many of us have been in a social situation in which we feel like a duck out of water, surrounded by graceful, sleek panthers? They slide from one individual to the next, mysterious, powerful and so, so pretty, while we waddle and quack.

Maybe the best thing to do is find a party for ducks. If true sophistication is knowing what to do where you are, maybe leaving is the most gracious option available to you.

That’s not failure. For one thing, some people are naturally more comfortable in a social situation. I’m generally not one of those people. I like my small groups and familiar situations. I can survive in a crowd, but I’m probably not having fun.

adobestock_101089233-convertedWhen to make an entrance, how to make an entrance, and when & how to exit are prime social skills. If you’ve got those down, record that under “elegance.”

And just think how awkward those panthers would feel at a party for ducks. Assuming they don’t eat us alive…

Image Credit: © Geosap — Fotolia
Elegant

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The Beauty Following the Beast

Moving is a beast. Eventually, there’s beauty. In my case, that takes some creativity, since my furniture is a hodge-podge of hand-me-downs, hand-made items, discount deals and my ever-beloved futon.

But I am nothing if not creative, and I have a beautiful view that makes anything look good. It’s so beautiful, in fact, I apparently don’t need curtains (although me being me, I want the damn curtains).

The living room is actually pretty well set up. As for the rest of the home, no pictures available or deep mortification would ensue…

home-sweet-home
A portion of the living room as of time of posting.
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Raise the Level

Two years ago my church, in particular my priest, was fighting hard for hot meals for the inmates at our county jail. Up to that time the best they got was sandwiches, made with stale bread and what in only the loosest term possible can be called meat, such as bologna.

This wasn’t Oscar-Meyer bologna. It was institutional, and the packaging revealed it was a “meat substitute” just as the cheese used was a “dairy substitute.” This sandwich filler cracked and crumbled when you bent it. It was like eating cardboard.

Woman in jailInstitutionalization is intended to be separation from society, not a series of debilitating punishments that can affect your health and mental state for life. With that in mind, we sought to bring our local jail to its senses and feed the inmates something edible. Not gourmet meals, not specialty food, simply something edible.

Shockingly, we received intense and harsh criticism from the community.  My favorite was this, written in a review on our Facebook page: “these people should stop trying to change the world and focus on the Gospel instead.”

For anyone reading this not familiar with the Christian gospels, they tell of a Christ who reached out to the thieves and prostitutes around him, down to his dying moments. He didn’t say, “they committed a crime. They deserve whatever happens to them in there” as thousands in our community told us, in writing.

I recognize that different denominations and congregations practice their faith differently than I do. That diversity in beliefs and priorities creates tension as well as reasoned debate, and I won’t tout my beliefs as the Absolute Truth. But I do believe condemning someone to abuse and cruelty because they committed a crime is not a godly plan.

And malnourishment is abusive, to the mind and the body. I’m proud to say the Sheriff eventually relented and the jail now serves two hot meals a day, in addition to a cold breakfast. (Breakfast, it should be noted, was always a fairly decent meal in that jail.) When they make sack lunches for inmates on a work detail, it’s usually peanut butter and jelly, which I’m told (for jail food) is pretty good, too.

We now have a new sheriff who is quietly making improvements in what is known as the “worst jail in the state.” Previous sheriffs took pride in that designation. He doesn’t. He is raising the level in his jail, demanding the inmates be treated in a humane manner, knowing that ultimately, society benefits from such behavior.

Hope and Freedom sm2Eventually most inmates will be back among us, and if they come out of jail beaten down and emotionally battered, their ability to function well in their community is severely compromised.

If you commit a crime, you should pay the appropriate price. But jails are inherently bad places to be. We don’t need to take steps to make them worse.

Photo Credits: © Bigstock.com