Final Blog Post On Blogger

Dear Reader,

This will be the final blog post on this platform. Don't be sad, it's all good! Nourish Create Bloom has moved to a beautiful new home. 

I'm cordially inviting you to check out the new digs. But please note: if you'd like to continue getting inspiration sent to your inbox, you will need to visit the new site and sign up. And while you are there, check out the blog post that I wrote just for you. 💗

www.NourishCreateBloom.com 

As always, I'm incredibly grateful for your readership and support. I look forward to our new beginning and hope you'll join me there!

With Lots of Gratitude, 

Kathianne

A Shout Out to My Favorite Black Person

Today I'm giving a shout out to to my favorite black person. (Although in my opinion, he's more of a chocolate brown.) Click here for a segment that Dallas News 5 aired today on Brian and the history of black men in medicine.

It's such a gift for me to be able to watch these brief videos. Brian and I have been together since July 4, 2001 (the first week of his surgical residency!) and up until last year, I hadn't ever seen him doing his "surgical thing." He works A LOT (when we first started dating he was working 120+ hours a week sometimes and no, that is not a typo or an exaggeration.) I've seen his various offices over the years, but I never saw him in the operating room or scrubbing in. To the people at the hospital, he is a big deal trauma surgeon. But to me, (for many years although not recently,) he was my husband who was never home. And that was especially hard when our daughter arrived two months after we moved across the country for his job and I was sans family support or my tribe. 

Now, this next part is sort of embarassing, but I'll tell you anyway dear reader. Prior to last year's Black Men White Coats video, I would occasionally watch Trauma: Life in the ER, just so I could just get a sense of what his life was like in those many hours at work. I wanted to better understand him and the demands of his career. And I confess, I would watch the trauma surgeon on the tv show and think: Wow! It is so sexy how that guy is taking command of such a chaotic situation and is literally making life-or-death decisions while his hands are inside someone's guts. It allowed me to be more tolerant of his absences. It also helped to think about all the people he is helping everyday- not just patients but the underrepresented minority youths who see him and know that being a surgeon (even while being a first generation college graduate!) could be possible for them too.

 So, here I am. SHOUTING. 

Love Looks Like a Glitter Lava Lamp

Apparently all the red and pink in the stores this week inspired me to blog again. Twice in one week. Whoop, whoop! You go me.

Actually, the real inspiration came when my husband, Brian, gifted me with freedom. He took our daughter to school and took Disco to "the doggy spa." So I was totally free for 6 divine, uninterupted hours. 

And the whole time I was creating/writing/learning, I gazed at this lovely thing:

Brian gave it to me that morning for Valentine's Day. I could say that he got it for me because he knows me so well. But that's not completely true. Really it's because the last time I was visiting my BFF in Arizona, we saw this glorious, glittery, glowing thing and I asked her to text Brian right away and tell him to get me this. Since it's screaming, "KATHIANNE!" in big sparkly letters, I'm sure he would have bought it for me had he seen it on his own. But since he had to go to 4(!!!!) Target stores without success and then ended up buying this one online from Amazon, I'm guessing he would not have found it and I would not have it and thus you would not be reading this blog post right now. 

The morals to this glitter lava lamp love story?

1. Don't be afraid to ask for exactly what you want.

2. Enlist your BFF for assistance in gift-buying. 

3. Love is a verb. 

4. Persistance pays off.

5. Money cannot buy happiness. But it can buy a glitter lava lamp and for me that's pretty darn close.

Everytime I see this magnificent expression of his love, 😝

I will think of how he went to great efforts to find it for me. 

💖That's love with sparkles. 💖

Go Spread Love

My Dear Readers,

I'm sending you love. 

Texas-sized, sparkly love.  

From my home to yours.

It's LOVE Week! It's LOVE month! Even if you don't have a "Special Lady" or "Special Mister," it's no matter. Surely there is someone (ANYONE) who you love and someone who loves you. This is a great time to send them a 😘 text, a card via snail mail with glitter in the envelope (it's not too late, it's never too late), a 💖 posted on their Facebook page, or an extra long hug. You might even consider leaving a comment on a blog post (hint,hint.)

Send love to people (and animals) who really need a reminder that they matter: refugees, foster children, sick kids, the impoverished or homeless, injured veterans, abandoned animals, lonely old folks, and grieving families to name a few. Give a smile, money, hugs, prayers, your time, your gently used clothes and homegoods, and/or notes that say you care. Pick up garbage that you didn't leave to love our verdant planet. Practice self-care (NOURISH yourself with dark chocolate, blackberries, green tea, long walks, and bubble baths. Or gratitude-journal writing, time being creative, and 15 minutes sitting in silence so you can hear your soul.) Love yourself and then love others from your overflow! 

And who doesn't love this bunny who is obviously the life of the fiesta?

This world needs more love! So be a love spreader! Spread love like heart-shaped confetti blowing in a 55 mph wind gust. (Biodegradable confetti, of course, because we also love Mother Earth.)

Please keep me posted on ways that you are spreading love this month! 

↣↣↣💘↢↢↢

PS: If you have little ones at home, try this craft with them. It's super easy and fun.

I-Spy Sticker Cards

I save all of the stickers we accumulate (lots of $1 sticker packs from Target, it might be a problem) in a bin and then whip out the bin for projects like this. Just take a notecard and stick, stick, stick away. It's great for fine motor development.

We (and by we, I mean me because God gave me a daughter who is perfect as he made her except that can only sit to do craft projects for 3-8 minutes at a time) made these for some of our little friends that live far away. On the back I wrote: We made you an I-Spy! Can you find.....a strawberry, a squirrel, a teeny skull, and....... What else can you find? I sent the cards in envelopes to keep the stickers from falling off in the mail. A sealant like Mod-Podge would also protect them if you are more inclined to send postcards.

Go spread love Dear Readers!

Reflections on Becoming Unexpected Activists (Or Our Life went Crazy Pants)

 Photo Source

Here's what I learned when my husband opened his mouth, cried on international TV, and our life went crazy pants:

1. You really NEVER know what is coming next in life. Good or bad. Control is an illusion.  
2. Pack a basic black dress you can wear twice OR pack a second dress. (See number 1.) You just never know what is coming next. Like, that time we were asked to meet the President the very next day and I only had packed one dress- that I was already wearing that night. On T.V.
3. Be present on the journey. Whatever you are experiencing will likely end soon, so hold on tight and enjoy the ride. (Or throw your arms in the air and scream like hell.) Maybe take notes and take pictures. But be sure to FEEL the wind in your hair and your stomach dropping on the downhill. It's a challenge to be present- I'm a work in progress on this one. But I'm committed to the practice and I've gotten somewhat better through the years.
4. Don't read the comments. (I did not do well with this one, I admit.) It amazes me how people watch the same video yet receive messages that are polar opposites. It's a bit scary, actually. But as Brené Brown says, the bystanders' opinions don't matter. The only opinions that matter are the ones in the arena. Frankly, I think when people automatically assume the worst of someone, it reflects more on the judger than the judgee. (I'm pretty sure I made those words up. And I'm going to keep them in here anyway.)
5. Don't be afraid to DARE GREATLY. Brian and I read Brené Brown's book, Daring Greatly as our own little book club. Brian feels it was life-changing. (And therefore it's life-changing for me too, as my life changed/changes when his does.) Brian only moved people at that press conference because he was courageous enough to be vulnerable. He showed emotion and people FELT that. Vulnerability leads to connection. (If only he had shown emotion the first 14 years we were together...but hey, that leads me to the next point.)
6. Live for the now and believe in the future. Breathe, believe, receive. GREAT things are coming your way. (And excuse me now- I'm going to get a bit spiritual and use the G word) God's plans for you are SO MUCH BIGGER than you can possibly imagine. He will use your pain for good. He will take a man who hadn't cried for 35 years, break him open, and then have him cry on international TV. He took a man who very rarely spoke about race with anyone, who was incredibly private, who turned down press interviews in the past and gave him the courage to Be the Change. I'm telling you- if a year-and-a-half ago you would have told me my husband was going to cry (just cry!) I would have laughed IN YOUR FACE. I used to tell him that I could die and he still probably wouldn't cry.   

Here are a few links from some of my favorite interviews from that time:

Dallas Trauma Surgeon Reflects on Irony of Treating Wounded Police Officers
With Ari Shapiro on NPR All Things Considered, July 15, 2016  (5 min 40 sec)

A History of White Delusion
Nicolas Kristof, The New York Times, July 14, 2016

Parkland Doctor's Candid Words Resonated with Black Professionals
Maria Halkias, The Dallas Morning News, July 15th, 2016

Surgeon Who Tried to Save Dallas Cops
BBC World Service, August 4, 2016 (50 min.)

That Day We Met the President (Unexpected Activists- Part 5)

Here it is. The post you have been waiting for. (Is anyone still out there reading this? Bueller, Bueller?) I know, I know. It's part FIVE. (In my defense, I don't like long blog posts. Reading them OR writing them. So I apologize in advance that this one is a bit long. Part 6 just seemed like toooooo much.) You've made it all the way from Part 1 through Part 4. And now we're ready to meet the President of the United States of America.

Thursday July 14, 2016
We woke up early that morning after only a few hours of sleep. Brian and I packed and got dressed and we then attempted to wake Beni. Normally, she is up at the crack of dawn and trying to pull me out of bed. But I swear, whenever we HAVE to be somewhere, she sleeps in. After some coaxing, and a reminder that she got to wear her new sparkly dress, sparkly shoes, and sparkly accessories, she allowed Brian to dress her while she laid there. He even brushed her teeth with in-bed service. We left the room sometime after 6:30am and grabbed a cab to Penn Station. 

Cab ride to Penn Station

At the train station, we found a Dunkin Donuts (I've missed you, DD coffee) and grabbed some coffee nirvana for me and some munchkins for the munchkin. And us too, of course! Public transportation, I've missed you too. Although, I realize it's easy to miss you because right now it's not cold, raining, and something I HAVE to do. Every. Single. Day. But it was incredible to be back on the East Coast and experiencing the hustle and bustle of a "real" city. 

After a short wait and some people watching, we boarded our train. Somehow we ended up on the quiet car, but it ended up being a blessing. One man was asked to leave after talking on his cell phone and I told Abeni he was kicked off the train car because he was too loud. (That was technically true AND was effective in keeping her quiet the whole way. Score one for Mama!) We all fell asleep with the gentle motion of the train and the sound of the wheels. But not before I posted this message on Facebook to my friends:

After arriving at the DC train station, we headed to a hotel near the ABC taping venue. Brian's hospital had sent a communications expert (thanks Mike!) to provide him with guidance about what he could and could not say (nothing about legislation since B was a state of TX employee.) We had lunch, freshened up in Mike's room, and all left in a rush to make it to the venue. 

Arriving at the DC train station

Once at the venue, we waited outside while the Secret Service swept the theater for security. We entered through metal detectors and they did a quick search of my purse and Beni's koala backpack. It was loaded with activities that would hopefully keep her entertained while Brian and I were at the taping. Once inside, we waited for quite a while longer. I sent this update to my Facebook friends. 

And then, without any warning (for a last minute potty break), Brian and I were ushered to our seats. I called out to Mike, "Take good care of our precious treasure!" Brian was seated in the front row and I was seated directly behind him. David Muir came in and talked to us for a while, and then THE PRESIDENT walked in. I'm trying not to use the word "surreal" too much, but that's the overwhelming feeling that filled me. 

That's Brian's big head there on the left. 

After two-hours, David Muir said- this is the last question- and it was over. Brian was disappointed he did not get to ask his question. Then the President went around the room to shake hands. Brian got a quick handshake. Everyone had a few seconds with POTUS as he walked around the circular room. Brian urged me to move from my second row seat and move into his path so I could meet him. I tried to maneuver into his path but the Secret Service agents were human obstacles.  

Brian chatting with David Muir, ABC newscaster

And then, there he was. The President of the United States was looking right at me. 

Me: (grabbing his hand) It is such an honor to meet you, Mr. President. 

Obama: Thank you.

Then there was a pause. I assumed he would keep moving on to the next person, so I didn't say anything else. But he didn't move on! 

Obama: So, what is your name?

Me: (very animated) I'm Kathianne Williams. My husband, Brian Williams, (I gestured to Brian behind me. B had strategically placed himself to get a photo of me with the POTUS.) was the surgeon who took care of the policemen that were shot in Dallas. 

Obama: (to Brian) Oh hey man! (shaking B's hand and then grabbing B's tie) Yeah, he dresses like a surgeon.

And then, miraculously, there was another pause. I had NOT planned anything to say. I wasn't even sure I would get to meet the President. So, I don't know WHERE this came from, because I am usually kicking myself later for not saying something "better." But I opened my mouth, and this came out of nowhere:

Me: (grabbing his hand and pulling Obama even closer) I just want to tell you, that when you were ignaugurated, I wrote a letter to my biracial daughter. I wrote to her that I was so happy that she would never know a world in which only white men were president. 

Obama: Thank you. Please tell her I said hello. She must be what? Eight years old now?

Me: No, five.

And then he moved on to the next person. I hope he put it together that I wasn't confused on my timeline; it was just that I wrote the letter to my daughter before she was even born. Because I had to do A LOT of waiting for her, remember? And do you remember the blog post I wrote several years ago about my letter to Beni on his inauguration? (Please follow the link and read that one.) Looking back now, it all feels magical. I wrote the letter to her in January of 2009, published the blog post in January of 2013, and then met the President and told him about it in July 2016. It was a full-circle moment. A moment when everything seems to fall into place and the Universe is in order.  

Can you tell from this photo that I am squeezing his hand kind of hard? 

I was holding his one hand with two of mine at one point. Ha! 

Brian said that the President wasn't going anywhere with my grip.  

Meanwhile, Brian was saying to me, "I thought I had to be quick to take the photo, but you were talking to him forever! After a while, I just held the button down and took a burst of photos." Sadly, we didn't get a photo of Brian with the President, and he didn't really get to say much to him. He's still a bit bummed about that. Frankly, I am just amazed at myself that I thought on my feet and took advantage of the moment. Yippee!!! 

We then collected Beni from Mike (she was alive and happy and had eaten a lot of candy and played with the young relatives of Eric Garner). It was a rush to get back to his hotel for our bags, then into a car for a long drive to BWI airport. Then it was a long flight back to Dallas. We landed at Love Field, but our car was at DFW (from the NYC flight) so we had to take a car service back to DFW. Then drive home from there.  

All in all, it was a VERY looooong day. So long, in fact, that the memories we made will last a lifetime.

*

 

Please stay tuned for 2 more posts. One is a final reflection on the events from my point of view. The other is an interview of Brian H. Williams, MD. He was interviewed by Don Lemon of CNN, Ari Shapiro of NPR, and Gayle King of CBS, but he has not faced the toughest interviewer yet! Kathianne Williams of Nourish.Create.Bloom!!! Feel free to write any questions you might have for Brian in the comments below. 

A Woman to Admire: Kristen Roedner

Dear Reader, I'm so excited for you to meet Kristen Roedner. Can't you just feel the sunshine she radiates from her being?

Kristen is one of the most LIVE OUT LOUD women I know. We met in Boston, circa 2002ish, through our sorority alumnae group. Delta Delta Delta, y'all!

Kristen hosts "Spread Sparkle" meetings at her home. It kills me that I live too far away to attend. She's been on me to start my own chapter.  I'll keep you posted if I do.

As I mentioned in a previous post, she drives a freakin' pink flying pig.

And there's a rainbow painted on the hood. Of course.

For the past two years, Beni and I spent the last week of summer break with her and her incredible daughter, Rosa Jane. The notes Kristen taped around her house for RJ made my heart melt. And made me excited to do the same once Beni can read.

Kristen's home is filled with art, art supplies, and inspiration.  I took the below photos last August. Two glittering reindeers and a flying pig Christmas tree are on display year round. Because they make her happy.

(Side note: I've never met anyone with more colored pencils than me. Her stash blew mine out of the water. I'm pretty sure I'd take her on ribbon and glitter though.)

But why all the pink flying pigs, you ask? She wrote an incredible blog post to explain her obsession. After you read it, you will know why I love her so much.

Kristen oozes sparkle and inspiration. And you want to know the craziest thing? She says I inspire her.

Glittering Thanks

A Very Happy Thanksgiving 2013

Here's how we give glitter thanks at our house.

Turkey Craft Number 1: Glam Gobbler

Clockwise from top left:
1. We found the inspiration for our turkey on a window at Beni's preschool.
2. I'm teaching her early- you can NEVER add too much sparkle.
3. Turkey in progress…

And here is our Glam Gobbler making his internet debut:

We were both so happy with how he turned out. He's a keeper for sure.

Turkey Craft Number 2: Sending Gratitude

Clockwise from top left:
1. and 2. Making handprint turkeys with paint and glitter.
3. The finished product says: We are thankful for you.
4. Sending our love to Godparents, grandparents, and beloved aunts and uncles.

Celebrating Thanksgiving at Preschool

Clockwise from top left: 

1. Beni-Bird modeling her Native American headband.

2. The Williams family feather: what we are thankful for.

3. Side view of previously mentioned fashionable headdress.

4. A huge turkey of thanks at Beni's school (one feather contributed by each family.)

Thanksgiving Day Traditions

Clockwise from top left:

1. and 3. Watching the Macy's Thanksgiving Day Parade.

2. Our vegetarian meal.

4. One dessert for each of us. 

A Night of Thanks

Clockwise from top left:

1. Gratitude-themed books.

2. Sitting by the fire for story time.

3. My art journal entry for 11-28-2013.

4. I've been recording blessings in my gratitude journal since 2002.

And one more thing I'm so grateful for…..
 you, Dear Reader.

***

PS: Please forgive the funky formatting and the extra spaces. I swear, it doesn't look like this on my end. I spent over an hour trying to fix it and then decided to publish "as is" before I lose my good feelings of gratitude. What a relief it is to let go of "perfection"!

Oh My, Lucky Star!

Last March my spirited friend, Kristen Roedner (who's been rumored to poop rainbows), told me about a whole living art camp I just *had* to attend. Since I have the utmost confidence in her creative recommendations, I immediately signed up.

Now, fast forward to early this October when Kristen picked me up at the San Antonio airport in her pink flying pig. 

The two of us headed off on the backroads of the Texas Hill Country with the sun shining, top down, hats on, and me feeling like Thelma. Or Louise. Our destination: Lucky Start Art Camp. 

Lucky Star was a Texas-sized experience. I could write several blog posts about it, but since I've been a bit lax on the blogging lately, I'm going to cram it all into this one. I hope the magical essence of the experience shines through my words and photos. 

Look at this place! Lucky Star Art Camp was held at Waldemar, an all-girl's camp in continuous operation since 1926. 

I'm pretty sure my Waldemar cabin was built (and possibly decorated) in 1926. How I wish I had taken photos to show you! There was a kitschy Western cowboy mural on the wall over the fireplace. And kitschy Western cowboy comforters on the bunks. And kitschy Western cowboy curtains over the windows. I loved it all! Everyday as I stepped into my cowboy boots, this East Coast girl felt like a real Texan. (For the the first time, even though we moved to Dallas three years ago.)

While there were a variety of lodging options, I went for the full-camp experience and bunked with Kristen and four strangers, who I came to adore.  My cabinmates were an incredible mix of women: the famous novelist, the intuitive healer, the hilarious Jersey girl who once kissed Bradley Cooper, the super sweet and quiet Houston stay-at-home mama, Kristen, and me. Six of us in a small rustic cabin with one bathroom and four bunk beds. It could have been a disaster, but it was magic. We laughed, we cried, we stayed up late to talk. I felt like I was back in my sorority house. My cabinmates and the other women I met at camp were remarkable, creative, generous spirits who made my experience sparkle.

A wide array of classes were offered at camp: quilting, jewelry making, sewing, canning and preserving, cheese-making, photography, apothocary, intuitive healing, painting, creative writing, and more. It was hard to narrow down my choices, but I finally selected:

1. Happy Painting with Juliette Crane (held on the banks of the Guadalupe River!)

2. Dreambook by Shawn Stratmann, and 

3. How to Write a Children's Story by Katherine Center.

(BTW, I just finished her latest novel, The Lost Husband, and I highly recommend it.)

Besides our classes, we could hike and explore, paddleboard or canoe, swim, do yoga, or horseback riding. And the food! Fresh and local and healthy. But most of all, yummy.  We had incredible evening programs about slow family living, eating well for the planet, and dream setting. After evening program, we sat around the campfire and listened to Mandy Rowden sing and play her guitar. All that was missing was a round of kumbaya.

I really shouldn't complain about anything. Except that I'm a nature lover who would prefer to never see creepy crawlies. And two cabins down a tarantula was found outside. And scorpions frequent this part of Texas. And a frog got into our cabin one night. I am big-time bug phobic and would also prefer frogs stayed outside. Good thing I didn't see any of them, so I was still able to sleep. Braving the wild creatures of Texas was worth it, and I'm already signed up for Lucky Star next year.

***

And don't worry, Dear Reader, I know you want to hear more about my friend, Kristen, so a whole post on her is coming soon.)

My Mom and Alzheimer's- Forever Grateful for Just ONE Moment

Me and my mama, Jacqueline Joslin Sellers.
In this photo, my mom is 39, the age I am now.

I had a "normal" mother for the first 30 years of my life. But by my wedding date, she was no longer the mom I knew.

My mother has Alzheimer's Disease.

When I finally became a mother at the age of 36, the "loss" of my own mother became more apparent. Strands of this deep loss are woven into my extreme joy. I see how my friends' mothers interact with their grandchildren and I feel sad. Sad that my daughter, my mother, and I were all robbed of generational experiences that I now long for. 

My mother will never know my daughter. My daughter will know of her maternal grandmother, but she will never know her. Not on this Earth, or in this lifetime anyway. I am comforted by a vivid dream my sister, Marilee, recently shared with me. In it, my mother told Marilee that when she wasn't here (mentally present), she was with God and it was beautiful. Marilee said my mother radiated peace and that Mom was the happiest and most beautiful she'd ever seen her.

I'm embarrassed and saddened to admit I never truly appreciated my mother until I became a mother myself. Until then, I focused on her flaws and her parenting faults. But now I want to ask her how she did it. How did she manage birthing and caring for my four brothers all by the age of 26? How and why did she manage to have six children when I find one overwhelming? How did she sacrifice so much to raise us all? How did she not seem to be tired, stressed, or depleted? These are questions that will go unanswered.

At the end of September, my little girl (I call her Beni-Bird) and I flew from Texas to the east coast to visit my family. We made an overnight trip to my hometown and got a chance to see my mom. 

My brother, Paul, and Marilee tried to prepare me as I hadn't seen her for two years. Mom is now in a wheelchair, they said, and sometimes she is unresponsive. Paul said he stayed only three minutes last time because it was just too painful to see her in that state. 

As fate would have it, when I saw Mom it was a "good day" for her. She was awake, and alert, and in a pleasant mood. I knew Mom wouldn't know who we were. But still I was unprepared when my brother, Mark, introduced my sister and I and she asked, "But where are the real ones?" 

My active two and 1/2-year-old seemed to sense the seriousness of the moment. She was very still as I introduced her. "Beni, this is my mama, your grandmother."

At the end of our visit, we all wheeled Mom back into the dining room of the Alzheimer's unit. We put her at the table amid the other unit residents, some who needed to be fed by an aide because they had forgotten how to feed themselves. Mom asked us not to leave her because then, "Who will I talk to?" 

I put Beni in front of her and once again told Mom this was my daughter, her granddaughter. Mom just kept repeating, "she's so beautiful, she's so beautiful" and even got teary as she said it. This was my ONE moment. My mother acknowledged my daughter on an emotional (and dare I say spiritual) level. 

Then, with tears streaming down my face, I knelt down by my mother's side and told her she was a good mother. I told her I loved her very much and I gave her a hug. And then I got a second gift- she told me she loved me. 

There is a lot my family lost to Alzheimer's disease. But on that visit, I was given one precious moment of my mother, myself, and my daughter all together; and my mom was as aware as she could possibly be. She was moved to tears by my child, and it was a beautiful ONE moment. That moment is all I will likely ever have. So I will hold onto it. And repeat it often to my daughter. And forever be grateful. Forever grateful for ONE moment.

***

Dear Reader, please take note:

November is the month to celebrate gratitude. It also happens to be my mom's birthday month and National Alzheimer's Awareness Month. For all of these reasons, I dedicate this post to my loving mother, Jacqueline Joslin Sellers.

Several years ago I wrote a post about my mom's Alzheimer's called Reflections from the Old Folk's Home. This was before her mental state deteriorated so much that she needed to be moved away from my father's care and into full-time care in the Alzheimer's unit.

A version of this current post first appeared on Voices from the 'Ville.

Four Years Ago Today

Today as I watched the inauguration of President Obama, (on the exact day we celebrate MLK!), I am reminded of this same ceremony four years ago. At that time, while feeling the magic of history unfolding, I penned the following words to my unborn biracial child:

Tuesday, January 20th, 2009
As I write this you have not even been conceived, although I am hoping and praying it will be soon. I am watching the inauguration of Barak Obama and I am filled with such excitement for your future. History is unfolding in a huge way and the implications for you and other children of color around the world are profound. You will never know a world in which only white men ruled this great country. You will be born into a new era-- one filled with hope and the promise of a new day. I have wanted you for so long and have cried many tears during the long wait. But I can now see, this is the year of your arrival.

Well, I was wrong about that last line. I shed many more tears in the twenty three long months between writing the above letter and our child's arrival. As you may know, our precious baby girl came to us via the miracle of adoption in the last month of 2010. 

This year I watched the inauguration ceremony after I put her to bed. (Unfortunately, I was watching Yo Gabba Gabba during the live television coverage.) Typing my 2009 words into this blog post reminded me of the excitement, the national pride, and the severe longing I was then feeling. It makes my chest feel tight and almost brings me to tears. But it doesn't. Because in the next room, my beautiful little mocha latte girl is now sleeping. I look forward to teaching her about President Obama and Martin Luther King, Jr. I also look forward to sharing this letter with her. But most of all, I look forward to telling her how much she was loved and longed for, years before she was even conceived.

Dreams can come true.

My Big Day with Oprah

Anyone who knows me well knows I *LOVE* Oprah. She inspires me to be a better person. And bloom. So after 6 or so years of trying to get tickets to her show, I was beyond excited when I finally won the Oprah.com ticket lottery. My mother-in-law had the misfortune of being next to me when I opened the email. Poor Miss Gwen may now be slightly deaf in one ear.

Looking back on my big day with Oprah, I realize it was a lot like another other incredible day in my life- my wedding day. Here are 12 ways how:

1. I dreamt about it for years. (When she decided to end The Oprah Winfrey Show, I thought my dream would never come true. Luckily, Oprah's Lifeclass on OWN- The Oprah Winfrey Network- sometimes has a live studio audience.)

2. The few weeks leading up to the big day, I was so excited I felt like I could have burst!

3. And there was that big question- what to wear? We were instructed to wear bright colors. No white, beige, or black. I choose a green Diane von Furstenberg dress. Green is Oprah's favorite color.

4. My best friend, Julia (who seven years ago was my matron of honor), was again by my side. And since the producers encouraged us to text, tweet, and post on Facebook during the taping, my sister (and maid of honor), Marilee, and my hubby were virtually present. They were both texting me and Marilee was watching the show live via Oprah.com.  BTW-she saw me twice.

5. I felt like a VIP. Oprah must have heard I was a big fan, because somehow Julia and I scored pink wristbands. We had no idea what they meant at first, but I sure felt special having one. As it turns out, the pink wristbands allowed us access to the orchestra level. Score! And on top of that, by some miracle, we ended up in the first row, stage right!  (Maybe it was the strict timeline I made Julia adhere to so we could get there extra early.)

6. Just like at my wedding, I was overcome with emotion. The moment I saw Oprah walk out on the stage, a crazy person came out of me. 

I was jumping up and down and screaming and waving and screaming and jumping and waving. (Julia thought I might have flashed my backside to the row behind us. Jumping wasn't something I considered when I chose to wear a dress.) Even a production crew member commented on my enthusiasm and joked that I was already on Youtube. Oh my. I'm hoping if I embarrassed myself it wasn't caught on camera. I'll have to wait and see when the show airs in 2013.

See the two women in red tops and white pants in the front row on the right?
That's me, in the green dress next to them.

7. While I was in Houston for the taping, I was fully aware that it was a magical experience for me. I was living in the moment.

8. It was worth the wait.

9. That night I was physically and emotionally drained. So much excitement in one day.

10. The day after the taping, I had an afterglow. And then there was a day of the post-wedding blues- the emotional let-down that sometimes follows such a highly anticipated event. It was over.

11. But I'll always have memories of my big day.

12. And I checked off one more item on my life list.



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Note: More on the the episode topic, Finding Your Life's Purpose, and the amazing Oprah's Lifeclass guests in my next post.