Friendship

I saw this somewhere and it said, author unknown. I wish I could tell that person thank you. You made me a better friend and helped me to understand that to some people I was just an acquaintance. 

There is a difference between being an acquaintance and being a friend. An acquaintance is someone whose name you know, who you see every now and then, who you probably have something in common with and who you feel comfortable around.

It's a person that you can invite to your home and share things with. But they are people who you don't share your life with, whose actions sometimes you don't understand because you don't know enough about them.

On the other hand, a friend is someone you love. Not that you are "in love" with them, but you care about them and you think about them when they are not there. The people you are reminded of when you see something they might like, and you know this because you know them so well. They are the people whose pictures you have and whose faces are in your head regardless. 

Friends are the people you feel safe around because you know they care about you. They call just to see how you are doing, because a friend doesn't need an excuse. They tell you the truth, the first time, and you do the same. You know that if you have a problem, they are there to listen. 

Friends are the people who won't laugh at you or hurt you, and if they do hurt you they try hard to make it up to you. They are the people you love, regardless of whether you realize it.

Friends are the people you cried with when you got rejected from colleges and during the last song at the prom and at graduation. They are the people that when you hug them, you don't think about how long to hug and who's going to be the first one to let go.

Maybe they are the people that hold the rings at your wedding, or maybe they are the people who give you away at your wedding, or maybe they are the people you marry. Maybe they are the people who cry at your wedding because they are happy or because they are proud.

They are the people who stop you from making mistakes and help you when you do. They are are the people whose hand you can hold, or you can hug or give them a kiss and not have it be awkward because they understand the things you do and they love you for them.

They stick with you and stand by you. They hold your hand. They watch you live and you watch them live and you learn from them. Your life is not the same without them.

Author Unknown 

Lesson Learned

Protect the Babies

I know I've been talking about my online dating experience but I had to take a break. My computer was in the shop. Today on my newly repaired PC I tackle the world one word at a time.

Something has been bothering me. Two days ago I saw on my newsfeed that a mother (an acquaintance) had posted a picture of her seven year old daughter in an opened back shirt for Valentines Day standing in the (look back at it) pose. Let me pretend innocence and say she wanted us to see the back of her baby's shirt, despite the sexual connotation of the pose itself. I try to stay out of making suggestions to parents because MANY get offended and throw the (you don't have any children so hush) card.


Fast forward to today and I see two more photos of girls under ten with these provocative poses. I don't get it. Why are we encouraging this overt sexuality in our babies? Don't the predators have enough to work with? Why serve them your child's innocence on a platter?

I get it, we live in a more open world. And don't think I'm just saying girls, because the boys are at danger too. It's just that whenever I see parents posting pictures of their kids in a provocative nature I get antsy. I wonder, "what the hell were you thinking?" 

I still believe in the future of our children. I hurt for them when I see that the adults that should be their protectors are leading them like lambs to slaughter. Even as I write this I feel the heat from the tears that are forming in my eyes. 

I just want to know, who will protect the babies.

Will You Remember Me - How Will You Remember Me?

So the story of the woman found in her apartment three years after her death, still bothers me. I want to be remembered!

I'm a church girl. My parents are preachers, so I've been in church all my life. I had a youth leader that I will never forget. She was the worst youth leader to walk the planet probably. Yes, I'm exaggerating. But she was pretty awful. I assume she hated the position and I often wondered if she even liked young people. 

Every time she came to youth meetings it was as if someone was infringing on her time and like we should feel privileged that she graced us with her presence. She was always engaging us in debates about whether being from the inner city made us "hood kids". That wouldn't be bad if ever so often she wouldn't punctuate it by scolding the girls in the group by telling them she wouldn't be surprised if they became teen mothers. 

Now that I think about her, she was slightly psychotic. Anyone that projects those feeling and those kind of ideals on impressionable minds and people she should be molding had to have some kind of loopy tendencies. Funny thing is, we (kids) never reported her. 

She also had authority issues. She was always at odds with the church overseers. I was a kid but it was obvious that she had issues. I remember the last time I saw her at church she went into the office, tendered her resignation and promptly exited the building. All during Sunday morning service. The church office was beyond the pulpit at that time so she had to pass the entire congregation to do that. Why not wait until the end of service? Dramatic much?

Well the other day in the newspaper, I saw an obituary with someone of the same name. I wasn't sure if it was her but my memories were filled with her shouting at us, putting us down and her general unfairness. Then I turned the page.

I remembered.

Will You Remember Me? Part 2

I often wonder who will remember me. I know my parents will and I assume my siblings will. But with my constant interaction with people I wonder how many of them would say, "That girl/woman...". I remember my grandparents often. I think of school friends one or two of them haunt my mind when I think of school fights and arguments.

I used to do youth work. I wonder if the kids there will remember how they often came to my workplace and stayed there until time to go home. I wonder if they'll remember pizza Fridays. I used to work for a Pastor, I wonder if he'll remember how spent days and nights for three months clearing up his accounting.There was point where I worked at a school, it was in the cafeteria but I wonder who remembers the lady that they had to pay, the one they said always made them smile.

As a singer who will say a song I sang touched them, made them think, gave them goosebumps. I was at a street festival a few months ago and ran into a director that I had worked with. With his eyes lit he said, "I thought about you last week. I was listening to the radio, I turned it off and thought, 'Ali Cole, that girl could sing her a__ off, I wonder where she is?' and here you are." I wonder...

Who will remember me?

Will You Remember Me?

Ever so often, something grabs my attention and forces me into a long hard think. The other day while watching Netflix I stumbled across a documentary and it has since left me a little unnerved. The documentary was about a woman named Joyce Vincent and according to what I read she had been found in her apartment dead after three years. 

As I watched this unfortunate occurrence, it saddened and angered me. But most of all it made me reflective. Has my life made enough of an impact on the universe that people would be concerned enough to look for me if I simply didn't show up one day? 

The interesting thing is that this woman knew people, people knew her. They described her as bubbly and charismatic. I'm bubbly and charismatic. They spoke of how she connected with so many people. Mentioned that people found her affectionate and a joy to be around. I thought about it.... Joyce could be anyone. Joyce could be ME!

I've been thinking about this for a few days now, and I hope that I'm not so easily forgotten.

Just think about it.