READ ME ... yeah, right. Right?

I'm sick of everyone else having on-line diaries. I want one too.

What is this all about? Maybe you should read the READ ME READ ME.

april 13, 1998:


"Time spent with cats is never wasted."
- Colette

A letter from my mother, in honor of my birthday (who, as I suspected, finds this day more traumatic than I do).

April 4, 1998

My darling Rebecca,

You know, there is a connection between Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr., and your birth.

On July 30th, 1967 there were racial riots in many cities including Milwaukee. The police instructed us not to drive downtown or in any areas near the central city until all was peaceful again. On Monday, July 31st, many people did not go to work.

On that day, however, I had previously scheduled a meeting with Dr. Earnest Spaights, a prominent African American in Milwaukee, who was also my University advisor for my Masters Degree. Dr. Spaights and I had planned to discuss my course of study for the following year.

Because Dr. Spaights did not call to cancel the appointment, I decided that it would be best if I attended. I also wanted to talk to him about what I suspected would be a change in my scheduling for the upcoming year.

Thus, I kept the appointment at UW-M, and carefully broke to Dr. Spaights my news: "Dr. Spaights, I am embarassed to say this, but think I got pregnant yesterday. If it is possible, I would like to do independent study with you second semester. If I am correct, I will give birth mid April."

He smiled slyly, and agreed.

Second semester began, and I met with Dr. Spaights once a week for three credits of independent study. We had planned to finish my course work by the time the baby was born. As it turned out, the course ended before that.

On April 4th Dr. King was assassinated. Dr. Spaights called me shortly thereafter to tell me that he would not be able to continue my course; I was finished and earned an A. The professor was too upset to do anything more than cope, I guess.

You were born on April 13th, and everything felt as if it worked out so well. Except for the tragedy, of course, 8 days earlier, 30 years ago today.


No wonder I always seem to run a little late.

I never really understood why we use our birthday as a time to collect presents from our friends and to celebrate ourselves. Wouldn't it make more sense to celebrate and give gifts to those who gave us life?

Thanks, Mom (and Dad, and Grandma ..). And thanks, Dr. King, whose dreams pale only in comparison to the distance from their fulfillment.

Just another thing to remember this Passover and Easter.

"30 is great; one still is young, looks young, but is taken seriously."
- F.G.

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New References Galore!

thanks, COMOFLOW





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