Today as I crossed my county from Bayside through Farm Land to the Gulf and back again, I had a little head time. Probably one of the only things I miss about commuting to the metro hub “on the other side of the bay,” is my head time.
It wasn’t really the vast farmlands of The Midwest, mind you. The houses are only about 5 acres apart, but farmland runs between them and I roll down my windows as I take the back roads and think about “home” — where things are simpler. Where a man is judged by the fruits of his labor, and the love he gives back to his community, starting with his family, …how very honest and pragmatic and humble and hard working that has taught me to be…
I miss numbered country roads. But, the cotton looks dry, and if it doesn’t rain soon the winter growing season is in deep trouble. I wonder if the people in these houses are hunched over a computer calculating atmospheric moisture right now, worrying about their farmhands and their kids…
And then I roll into the next smaller city and block by block, I smell the mingled foods, and feel the hustle of people who are used to living in vibrant intense COLOR all the time — cultures mingling and bouncing off of one another in endless dances of wonder…and I think about how much I have learned from all of that and how rich it has made my life, how humble, how accepting, even fierce, about the beauty of our differences this place and others have taught me to be…
That head wrap, in the purple, with the beautiful embroidery on it, WOW! I hope no one is nasty to her about it today. She’s beautiful. I wonder if she is frightened when she answers her call to prayer and I hope she knows there are people like me in the world yet, who welcome her, want to learn from her, will defend her right to be different. I wonder if her kids feel safe when she kisses them good-night. I think about my kid, growing up in this “border country” where three or four worlds are just a few minutes away from her front door. She travels with me, she talks with me about her struggles to understand where she “politically” aligns.
I think about her fear of being different in an intolerant world, her longing to protect the underdog, and her fierce determination to make her own way and be independent – to stand on her own, beholden to no one, honoring her heritage and her roots, balancing that with worry for her mom who has fallen through some cracks.
She’s the daughter of the strongest, hardest working woman she’s ever known, and an entrepreneurial father who feels crushed under an over reaching government. She worries for her grandma who has come to stay and what would become of her without help from that same government.
She is accepting of others, with not too much pride, but enough to find a place to stand and fight…as she sorts out where her personal lines will be drawn…
…and I think it’s no wonder she’s confused.
As I wind my way through one of my favorite towns, the one on the river where mail still comes by boat, on my way back into the more rural areas before I hit city again, I pass by a man, sitting at the end of his driveway.
He’s got a longish beard, mostly white. He’s a little on the thin side, and his straw hat’s a little skewed. His plaid “engineer” type shirt is firmly tucked into Khaki pants which brush the tops of his field boots. His wheel chair reflects sunlight right into my eyes.
But I see his broad smile clearly as I pass by. I see his American Flag waving from the back of his chair. I see the peace sign he flashes me as I honk and wave.
I wonder what he’s trying to tell me, sitting out there at the edge of a tiny town the way he is … is he a vet? And old hippie? A progressive? A conservative? He carries no slogans, no signs to tell me what to think. Just his flag and his peace and his grin. What are his “lenses”? … Is he telling me I need to be more aware of something?
I think of the conversations online … and then I smile and I nod. He’s being an American, the best way he knows how.
I’m glad I saw him. I’m glad he saw me. I think, in that split second, we both felt the shiver that comes with being a part of something bigger than ourselves– “The Land of the FREE, and the Home of the BRAVE…”
And we both let that be enough. Today. <3
#NoHateHere #ThisisMYNeighborhood.