Posts Filed Under Ramblings

Why We Should Forgive Ray Rice

posted by Momo Fali on December 2, 2014

Hold on. Let me tell you where I’m coming from.

Before I met my husband, to whom I’ve been married for over 17 years, I was in an abusive relationship. This does not make me an expert on domestic violence, but it gives me a unique perspective. I know what it’s like to look into the eyes of someone who is supposed to love you and feel nothing but pain.

Ray Rice did something wrong. Very wrong. Without exception, a man should never hit a woman (and vice versa) and there is absolutely no excuse for his behavior. He should be punished for it, and if it is determined the punishment is that he is never signed to an NFL contract again, then he should accept that. This isn’t about the football player, this is about the man.

Can I say that I would forgive him if I were Janay? No, I can’t. I was never knocked unconscious. I can say that I chose to forgive someone for hitting me, or at least to look past it, again and again, for years. I should have left after the first time it happened, but I think Janay should stay.

Why the double-standard?

Because I believe in second chances. I believe in forgiveness and that people can better themselves. I believe in becoming a stronger, more-focused, enlightened person by owning your mistakes and understanding your future choices. I also believe there isn’t one person reading this who hasn’t done something shameful in their life.

Ray and Janay have both said that this was the only time he had ever hit her. I don’t necessarily believe that, but I don’t know for sure. What if it was? What if this was Ray’s shameful moment?

The difference between what happened to me and what happened to Janay is that Ray is sorry. He has expressed regret and asked for forgiveness. I stayed with someone who didn’t. There can’t be change within a person unless they see the need.

We have to determine whether we look at Ray Rice as a violent, indifferent person who doesn’t deserve forgiveness because he’s only concerned about his career, or as a remorseful man who made a terrible mistake, loves his family and should get the opportunity to prove it. Trust me, there’s a big difference between those two types of people - an infinite difference.

Which Ray Rice do you see?

I choose to see the latter. I choose to believe in second chances.

The Epitome of Morals

posted by Momo Fali on November 24, 2014

My daughter is currently working on a paper for her English class which she has titled, “The Epitome of Morals.” Obviously, I am the subject matter. Oh, okay that’s not true. It’s Atticus Finch.

I’m going to try really hard not to take the moral high-ground here, because I am nothing if not flawed. I have a lot of remorse and regret over past behavior and I still make errors every single day. That’s because I’m human. It’s not an excuse, but it’s a fact. None of us walk a perfect straight and narrow.

But, at what point do we draw a line and say someone has morally crossed it?

The truth is, not much has changed since Harper Lee wrote To Kill a Mockingbird. Mockingbirds are still being slain while bluejays fly free. More and more and more, every single day. Are you a mockingbird? Are you making the world a better place? Do you treat people with love, kindness and respect? Are you singing a beautiful song?

We would all be better people if we had a little Atticus Finch in us; if we were courageous, strong, calm and kind. Maycomb isn’t just a symbol of my town or your town – it’s a symbol of me and you. It’s the good and the bad within us and which one we choose to display.

I’m thankful my daughter recognizes the morals of Atticus as a citizen, lawyer, father, neighbor and friend.

It’s too bad he’s just a character in a book.


posted by Momo Fali on November 20, 2014

I cried real tears when my first pair of favorite jeans got an irreparable hole in an unfortunate spot. Ahem. There are only so many places you can put a patch.

There have been a lot of favorite jeans since that first pair and each time I must part with the buttery-soft denim and their perfect fit, my heart breaks a little. The loss of something familiar, even after it has become unrecognizable, torn and ratty, is not easy for me to do. I have no desire to forego comfort for something shinier.

I like being comfortable. I like flannel shirts and furry socks. I like snuggling. Everyone likes to be comfortable, right? Not necessarily.

Some people need to feel itchy in their skin. They need constant movement, exploring unknowns, and excitement. And, while I am looking forward to new adventures, I still prefer them with a heavy side of fireplace, old movie, dogs at my feet, and a pot pie in my belly.

Unknowns make me feel tormented, scared, and a little bit crazy. I don’t like getting new cars, I hate the idea of moving, or the kind of exhilaration people get when they buy new things. I like the feel of old jeans, worn and broken-in in all the right places.

Irreparable holes be damned.

This is Your Brain on Sleeping Pills

posted by Momo Fali on November 16, 2014

I will start this post by letting you know that I took my sleeping pill about 10 minutes ago; usually that would be enough time to crank a quick paragraph out for National Blog Posting Month, but I washed my face and brushed my teeth and missed my window. I am already backspacing a lot and misspelling about every other word. Like, right there, I spelled window, “winder”.

People who read my blog from West Virginia are all, “Youcan spell it winder if you want tuh!”

This is not to point out poor English speaking skills in Appalachia, but rather the West Virginia accents of our friends up the street who brought Appalachia to us. It should be noted, that after three glasses of my husband’s homemade wine, everyone speaks like they’re from Appalachia. It makes for a fun evening of board games.

Okay, now we’re moving on to the free form portion off the post. This happens just a few minutes¬† before I pass out. Often I’m talking on the phone with Melisa and then……………………. silence. She nicknamed me Radio because her end of the conversation falls into radio silence. ZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ

The next paragrah is after a 10 miniyut brealk.

(Redacted. The spelling got ugly after this and the content mostly involved an ice cream bar.)