Fighting

I’ve always had it in me. Sorry, younger siblings. I was only there to protect you. It came out when I was writing legislation to help millions of people. Then, when I chose to volunteer.

My parents never fought, just divorced after 35 years of marriage. It was understood that nothing was ever discussed. A cheek kiss at the door, how was your day, dear, and talk of work at the dinner table. Then we each had to ask to be excused from the table to do our homework.

Parents did instill a 100% effective right/wrong meter as to ethics. I did less than exemplary fighting for crime victim rights and gay rights and privacy in my 20’s because of being stymied by larger forces. In my mid-thirties I took on a volunteer fight that made me grow and helped fellow citizens.

Fight from the heart. Use words, not weapons. When needed, get involved. I’ve pulled a dog with his jaws on mine off, all advice unheeded, he had no collar much less a leash, and we both lived to tell the tale. Re: that pit bull, they never apologized or said they’d pay for vet fees, only said he was going back to Mexico and would never be in our park again.

Yes, I fought. I got that pit bull off my dog by the neck skin and held him. When you fight for anything, for rights, a bill in Congress, or your life, you fight. I will never use or carry a weapon. Words. Actions. Life. Live it as I protect my family, Dee

ps I do have an arsenal of knives, as a cook. I treat them like babies and they look great up on the magnetic rack. Never do I take one outside. Only small scissors to trim our communal herb garden. d

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