A Mother’s Comfort and a Moon Landing

For M. E. T.

I remember this one significant thing Mom did … so many times she did this. 

It didn’t matter if we were watching a boring Phillies game or if I was tired after playing in the snow or if I had a tough day in elementary math or when I defended my girlfriend against a bully (I kicked her ass and mom defended me against the bully’s mom) or even when I got my “monthly” very early and the school nurse was rude to me. 

Mom would take my head in her lap and softly rake her nails along the side of my head, through my hair. Typically, I’d fall asleep. Comforted. 

I fell asleep like this the night we were waiting for the Moon Landing. 

The Moon Landing was July 16, 1969, just before my 12^th birthday. I fell asleep with Mom raking my hair. 

I woke up to a shaking and “Wake up, wake up, men are walking on the moon!” 

Holiday Dinner

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Chicken runs round the farm yard,

Wishes he was the duck.

Duck runs round the barn yard,

Wishes he was the pig. 

Pig runs round the pig sty,

Wishes he was the horse.

Horse smiles, relaxes in stall.

Christmas eve, he’ll mourn them all.

A Christmas Tree

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Two young boys, huffing and puffing, drag a Flexible Flyer up worn wooden steps, banging and scraping. The boys are dressed like dark woolen snowmen from their watch-capped heads to their rubber snow boots. 

Mother stands over Little Sister, dressing her for the occasion – knitted cap tied under chin with a scarf, multi-layered clothing, and hand-me-down boots. 

The three siblings slurged through heavy snow in the driveway, passed the mint and white Chrysler with its push-button start, into the snow drifts. These children are on a mission! 

They trudged a couple hundred yards – past the monkey ball trees – until they set foot on the school grounds, then round the back to the dumpsters. 

The Christmas tree adorned the large lobby of Lora Little Elementary School. After final classes marking winter break, the tree was dragged from the lobby and tossed unceremoniously out the loading dock doors. The tree is forlorn now, marked by several bent and broken branches and bent and wrinkled tinsel.   

True to the elementary school tradition, this tree is twelve feet tall and wide as a 1950s Buick. The Flexi Flyer is a scant few feet long, but none of the logistics mattered. If they did not rescue the tree, they would have no tree. 

The three siblings dragged the tree past the sledding hill where one brother would break his leg, past the weed-choked fence where the other brother would contract poison oak, past the school’s towering metal and chain swing set where sister would jump, fly!, and dislocate her elbow. 

Out of the schoolyard and down the home street, sliding down the driveway, around the house and into the back yard. 

Much like Paul Bunyan, Older Brother dispatched his Boy Scout ax from its leather pouch and commenced to chop the tree to a manageable height so it would fit into the rec room. 

They set the tree in a teeny, dented tree stand.  They re-arranged the leftover tinsel then added their own stored decorations. Delicate, paint-flaked ornaments with misshapen hooks, delicately and laboriously placed upon bent and broken branches, until the tree brought the spirit of Christmas into the home.  

I am a North Dakota Democrat

And I vote.

Together, we decide what’s possible.  

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I am not of child-bearing age, but I believe it is a woman’s right to control her own body. 

I am not gay, but I support LGBTQ2S rights. 

I am not Indigenous, but I support First Nations and their spirituality, culture, and heritage. There are 574 federally recognized tribes in the United States alone and none can say their treaties were kept. I believe MMIW needs more attention. 

I am not young, nor do I have college debt, and I believe young people should be free from the burden of unimaginable student debt. 

I am not a gun owner, but I believe gun sales should include background checks, should have red flag laws applied vigorously, and that no one should have access to weapons of war. 

I am not a librarian, but I believe all books should be available to all people. 

I am not a teacher, but I believe teachers should be able to teach all our history…especially the ugly parts. 

I believe Black Lives Matter. 

I am not brown, Asian, or AAPI, but I believe ethnic diversity is American. And a darn sight more interesting than the alternative. 

I am not Jewish, Muslim, Hindu, Buddhist, or Christian, but I believe all religions – or none – should be celebrated and respected.

I am not an immigrant, but my ancestors were. I believe we need a more robust, welcoming, and equitable immigration system.

I believe the scientists. I believe climate change is real. I believe in vaccinations, including covid vaccines. 

I am old enough to receive Social Security and Medicare, and I believe these programs need to be protected.  

I believe in Democracy. 

I am a NORTH DAKOTA DEMOCRAT.

TOGETHER, WE DECIDE WHAT’S POSSIBLE.