I knew I would be erratic in writing my blog; the determination and drive to stay on a schedule eludes me more and more. The big lapse in posts this time happened because my computer going funky on me. I couldn’t stay connected to the internet for more than an hour at a time plus I had to reboot to get back on it. Alex, the middle grandson, came to my rescue and can tell you just what was wrong.
I am still thinking about the Women’s March on Nashville and the people I met that day. Our lives followed very different paths in the 60s and 70s. I married in 1964 at the age of 20 and by 1969 lived in a small neighborhood of young white families with working dads and mostly stay at home moms. Planned pregnancies, housework and volunteering were the hubs in my life At the same time they were protesting, marching, and getting arrested for standing up for integration and women’s rights and being against the Vietnam War.
Now in 2015 I find myself on a bus with these women and I am thankful I have been given the time to think outside my little box and learn, learn, learn.
Thanks for saying what I have felt, but never expressed. I missed the sixties revolution, as I stayed at home with my children, not knowing conservative from liberal. My own little world of white bread, Tab, sparkling kitchen floor, enough pennies to buy a tube of lipstick kept my head in the sand. Good for you, Judy, awakening at last. My first MLK parade and my first Gay Pride march taught me that my place in the world can be important too. I only wish I hadn’t missed Woodstock.
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