Accidental Activists- Part 1

Hello my dear, dear Readers! I've been meaning to get back to blogging for sometime now, but apparently it has taken my husband trending on Twitter and me meeting the POTUS for that to happen. Surreal, I know. My private, introverted husband is all over the interwebs! And for several days last week, he was on television screens all over the world as well.  

Brian and I are both in shock and in awe at the events, the schedule, the serendipity, the context, the impact, the travel, and the significance of the past 10 or so days. On Thursday July 7th, I was just a (somewhat) normal stay-at-home mama. By the following Thursday, I was holding the hand of the President (of the United f-ing States!) and having a conversation with him.

So much has happened that I've put off writing about it out of sheer overwhelm. In order to push past my procrastination and get this posted in a timely manner, I've decided to write about my experiences in stages. Here we go...

Part One

On the night of July 7, 2016, several Dallas police officers were gunned down in the street following a peaceful Black Lives Matter protest. My husband, Brian, was the trauma surgeon on call at Parkland Memorial Hospital that night. He cared for seven of the officers and had to tell the families of the loved ones he was unable to save. While this incident was horrific, I was still somewhat surprised by Brian's level of distress. I knew the recent police shootings of Alton Sterling and Philando Castile had been weighing on his mind for several days prior to the police shootings. And I knew he'd had several negative experiences himself with the police. (And of course, I knew he was black.) But we've been together for 15 years, and during that time he's seen a lot of horrendous things in the emergency and operating rooms. Trauma is in his job title. He'd never cried before about his job (heck, he'd never cried the first 14 years I knew him!). I didn't put all the pieces together. And neither did he.

The evening following the police ambush (Friday), we attended a kids disco dance party that we hosted along with another family. The only unusual event was that Lester Holt was going to interview Brian on the NBC Nightly news but B ended up being bumped by Hillary Clinton. On Saturday we went to see The Secret Life of Pets with another family. On Sunday we attended church. The reverend said something along the lines of: Don't be afraid of breaking into pieces. Just choose broken open instead of broken apart. Brian cried. He and I spoke about the irony that he was working that night. He wasn't supposed to be but switched to accommodate a coworker's request. Despite the tragic events that rocked Dallas and our country and Brian's important role in them, our lives were still somewhat normal. 

Then Monday happened...