Becca, singing heartily during our New Years Eve dance-off
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Non-Years Resolutions
January 1- January 7
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January 1- Lay on couch for two full hour without getting up.
The kids are always begging me to lay still on the sofa, and watch a show with them. I haven't yet had the heart to explain that their movie time is my rush-to-get-everything-clean time. After all, when else is a mother supposed to gather the random toy tidbits from around the house, without having them spread right back into nether regions within moments of tidying? But, today, I gave in. I watched Jonas Brothers episode after Jonas Brothers episode, with a giggling, starry-eyed Rebecca at my side. (And, for good reason. That little Nick is adorable. Though, Alyssa seems to think Joe is the cutest because he's funny and "has straight hair.") It was a refreshing, entertaining, delectably snugglicious batch of hours and I daresay I may have talked the girls into watching another bundle of episodes the very next day. Ahhhhh. Why pick up the house when the kids are just going to make a mess of it anyhow? (wink.wink.)
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January 2- Follow Your Free Whim
It was the middle of an afternoon, and John was leaving with the car when I blurted out, "Will you take us to the mall?" Why? I don't know. I didn't need anything at the mall. I didn't want to look for anything at the mall. It wasn't even inspired by a desire to get in touch with my former junior-high, banana-clip wearing self. But, to the mall I asked for, and to the mall I got. The kids and I roamed around, bought a cupcake, watched a movie. It was a fine free-spirit sort of a day, and I felt so accomplished at doing so little that I instantly deemed it the day's non-years resolution.
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January 3- Treat friends to Dinner. Treat self to a good girlie chat.
Every Sunday, the kids beg for dinner guests. Being righteously pressured into it by Andrew, our resident dinner-guest-sheriff, we finally extended an invite to our favorite Wilcox family. After feasting on home-cooked Orange Chicken and Chinese Fried Rice, Jamica and I hid ourselves in a teensy closet (this is strangely truer than it ought be) and gabbed the night away. Good Food and Good Friends. Two ingredients which tend to lend significant savour to a Good Life.
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January 4- Uphold My Civic Duty.
Summoned to jury duty today, went through a metal detector, stood in a slow-moving registration line, sat in a room with faceless strangers. It was a grim start, I will admit. The most I've ever heard about jury duty is a thick sigh and the joking nudge of an elbow from others lucky enough to avoid jury captivity. What I experienced was a profound patriotism and opportunity for life-changing civic service.
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The jury commissioner began our session by reminding us that, while many in the crowd likely would have preferred being somewhere else, we were there to take part in an experience for which our forefathers worked, fought, and dedicated their lives. I was touched to consider it and felt a sort of sanctity come upon my thoughts. Within the hour, my name was read and I was called back and chosen to sit on a jury for a sexual assault case against a child. The case was intended to last three to four days. It only lasted two.
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January 5- Develop a profound understanding of mercy and justice.
Sexual assault against a child. It sounds rather cut and dry. A 14-year-old child, inexperienced, incapable of making entirely rational decisions should never be taken advantage of by a 21-year-old adult, right? Yet, we jurors sat in that back room--twelve strangers who, over a two-day period, became strangely like friends--deliberating for four hours. We had to consider all the facts presented in the case. Yet, there was so much not presented in the case. The 14-year-old had been so decietful. How much of her testimony could we believe, count as true evidence. And, there was something about the 21-year-old. His demeanor in court wasn't quite right. Child-like, even baby-like at times. Hadn't some of us seen him sucking his thumb? And yet, nothing in the presented case offered us information about his mental state. The 14-year-old was a good student. Quiet and unconfident.
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In the end, we found him guilty. Guilty on three separate charges.
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The judge joined us in the jury room after. Told us what we couldn't know before deliberations. The 21-year-old did, indeed struggle with mental health. Though, he hadn't met all the requirements to plead legally incompetent for the trial, so into trial as a person presumed healthy he went. He'd loved that 14-year-old girl, and she him. He showered her with gifts. She'd told him she was 17 (and did, indeed, look old enough to pass for it.) Of course, the law doesn't allow a child lying to be taken into account on such a matter, leaving us no choice but to throw out what she 'said' and having to rely heavily on what he--as an adult-- knew to be correct or incorrect behavior. How can you judge what a man who sucks his thumb in court knows or doesn't know?
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The judge told us the other thing we couldn't take into consideration for our deliberations. The charges, for which he was now guilty, held a mandatory 20 year prison sentence. He would now be branded with the same title as a 50-year-old who touched a 4-year-old.
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I keep going back to it and back to it in my mind. Did we do the right thing? Yes. We twelve jurors deliberated endlessly over the tiniest words and phrases of the law and worked diligently to apply them to this case.
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Did the right thing happen? I don't know. I don't think it did. It's left me feeling the significant sorrow of justice when applied by the unmerciful, unseeing hand of a cold law. Made me feel grateful all week for twelve strangers who left their daily routines and answered the call for jury duty. Twelve people who gathered warm bodies, experience, compassion, knowledge, and humanity around a laminate table to debate, debate, deliberate on the fate of one man. It's absolutely the most incredible thing to ponder upon.
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Of course, it's not perfect. No, I can attest to that. Everytime my gut tightens when I think of our foreman's words, "Guilty. Guilty. Guilty" I feel how imperfect the system, the law is. But, even my sickening sadness from the seeming unfairness of this specific case is hushed when I think upon the magnificence of the entire process. The gathering of facts, the gathering of witnesses, the gathering of jury.
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And, I feel honored to have been a part of it.
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January 6- Do Laundry Until It's Done.
Done.
(Phew.)
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January 7-Ketchup.
The blogs have been abandoned over the holiday months of revelry and relaxation. Finally, they've each been updated, and are back on track. Feels so delightsomely nice to not have to play catch-up anymore.
