Hi there. Now that the new website is here, I’m committed to rambling at least once a week. Are you interested in rambling on my blog? Let me know. Seriously. I’m open to guest blogs for things you care about. It’s been a long two weeks here. Almost two weeks ago, our town had an incomprehensible tragedy. A 12-year old boy stabbed his mother to death and wounded his sister. My fear for my community, or maybe me, was that there’d be normalizing. I’m proud to say so many I know immediately worried about the boy. There is a long ride ahead for the father and sister and all the members of the family. We live in a small community. There is great love for this family and their journey. It is that incredible reminder that love and sorrow live side by side in our hearts. Great love and great sorrow can be held simultaneously.
I’ve had many meetings about what the potential changes will be in the world of health care. Will we remember that being housed is actually helpful in being healthy? Or will we cover health matters. Some of you saw my Facebook post commenting on Senator Susan Collins comments about how Medicare and Medicaid cover amputation of limbs for diabetics but not community health workers to monitor their blood sugar. Thank goodness we’re talking about real things and somewhat easy fixes. Community health workers didn’t exist in this nomenclature too many years ago. I hope they are deeply embedded enough now to be permanent. They are incredible people.
Where and how do we advocate for change in positive ways. We do it the same ways. We contact our city councils, our mayors, our county commissioners, our State legislators and our U.S. Congressmen.
I’ve been thinking a lot about fences. We’ve done Day of Caring fences many times. Often the fences are built at group homes so that residents can go outside. A simple fix with a dramatic impact. Now I’ve been wondering in most cases are fences built to keep us in or keep others out. Make your own conclusions.
Today I had an amazing conversation. I saw a person I respect deeply who had gather her family to say goodbye due to a bad cancer diagnosis. Unexpectedly for their family, she was given five or six more years. So they celebrated. I can’t get it out of my mind. Is that fence to keep you in or to let you out? I don’t have a timeline. No one’s given me one. What have you been given? Cheerio,
