My first Juneteenth

One of my first thoughts this morning was to ponder how to commemorate this day.

This date. This event of Juneteenth that I had not even heard of until we moved here three years ago.  I've learned so much in these three years - and even more in these last few weeks.  Mostly I've discovered that there is so,  SO much I don't know.

So I found myself making a commitment a few weeks ago - to learn.
I didn't even know where to start, but as soon as I began paying attention, the resources were suddenly coming at me from all directions!

So yes, today is important.
My daughter says it so well and is helping me.
Her words describe my heart - and so I am borrowing them and sharing them.
And I am joining her in honoring this day.
My first Juneteenth.

My first Juneteenth

by Stacy Brown

My heart is heavy today.

This is my first Juneteenth.

I wasn't taught about this in school.

I didn't hear about this in church.

I didn't grow up discussing this with friends.

My ignorance wasn't all my fault,

but it's all my responsibility to fix it.

Someday I'll celebrate Juneteenth,

but this year I'm starting

with humbly and solemnly honoring it:

Mourning so many horrors, of past and present,

that white washed history has swept under the rug, 

acknowledging my own ignorance and bias,

and committing to doing whatever I can to do better going forward.

Today is my first Juneteenth.

It won't be my last.

Thank you, thank you, Stacy, for giving voice to my heart.
But how does one honor such a momentous event?

The one instruction that keeps coming back to my mind... is to listen.
To really listen.
Listen and learn.
Read black authors
Hear black voices.

And so I am.
I have begun and I will continue.
One step at a time
One day at a time.
Starting on this day, my first Juneteenth...

Thankful Thursday: remembering my dad

Today I’m thankful for my dad.

We lost him way too soon - 24 years ago today.

His life was too short but his legacy is huge and expansive.

• I’m thankful for the lessons he taught and the examples he set.
• I’m thankful for the ways I am like him - well, except that he was such a pack-rat!
• He was a plodder and just kept working on things one step at a time - although he never did quite finish getting rid of everything from those shelves in the shed.  Drats!  I fear that as my destiny as well.

But he was kind and patient and compassionate - and so many remember him as someone who loved them.  I really want to be like that.

I’m pretty sure I got my love of words and writing from him.  I don’t know if he ever considered himself a writer, but he was definitely diligent about writing.  He researched and composed and printed a centennial history book for the church... but mostly he wrote long, loving letters to friends and family.  I lived less than a mile from him... but there were those four years when I was away at college and that one year we moved our family to the Dominican Republic.  Those years away qualified me to receive his famous chronicles in my mailbox and for that privilege I am thankful.  

Might be time to revisit my letter-writing plan.  Well, it also might be time to go find those packets of letters from him
 in my bins and boxes piled up on all those shelves!