Family

When Enough is Enough

Being on the other side of the continent from my family – both close and extended – these past two years has afforded me a lot of freedom. I’ve been able to do a lot of soul searching and self-analysis without the family pressures of “maintaining status quo” or just going with established norms. This time has allowed me to come to terms with who I really am, what I believe, and solidify my core beliefs about what is right. Raised conservative, I’m now about as far left politically as a person can go, and close-minded people who spend their lives lobbying against the personal interests, private matters, and basic freedoms of other people are, in my opinion, not worth my time. I’ve also always been outspoken, but I’m now that way more than ever, and all of this leads up to what happened a few weeks ago.

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Family · Home

Back from my hiatus – and as a homeowner!

We are officially homeowners for the first time in our lives, and after almost ten years of marriage!  We closed on our lovely little house in Port Orchard, Washington on 10/27, took possession the next day, and moved in Thursday.

Our new town!
Our new town! When we’re standing in our driveway, we can hear the seals barking down on the waterfront (of Sinclair Inlet, which is part of Puget Sound), which is about a 1/2 mile away.

 

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Family

You can go home again, but maybe you shouldn’t…

Have you ever had one of those experiences that really just defy words? At least, right away? I went home to Indiana for a week and only recently got back to Washington, and I’ve been trying to wrap my head around my trip. I discovered something pretty profound, at least to me: they say you can’t go home again, but I don’t believe that’s true. You can, but that doesn’t mean it’s going to feel like home anymore.

We moved from Indianapolis to Seattle last August. Last September, my parents moved out of the house they’d lived in for 29 years. When I headed to their house after arriving at the Indianapolis airport, I was driving to an unfamiliar house in a town I’d never been in. There was no “going home.” In fact, home was gone.

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Family · Me

A white woman’s worry for her black husband

My husband wants me to get my conceal-carry permit so that we can leave a pistol in the car at all times. He’s all about it, even printing out the application and handing it to me this morning. We live in a major metropolitan area, but at the edge of some pretty wild, mountainous country so his concerns make sense.  I understand the need and yet I hesitate.  I’m very worried about him driving alone in our nice, new car while in possession of a loaded pistol.  Why?  Because he’s a black man.

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