LoriLoo

Commitment to Democracy

November 4, 2024

Asheville Living, Justice

I returned home to Asheville on Sunday, October 13. Everything that you have heard and seen about the destruction wrecked by Hurricane Helene in Western North Caroline is true, and then some. My heart breaks as I traverse the area witnessing the damage done. I am so grateful for the outpouring of support in our area. From FEMA, from church groups nationwide, from volunteers simply wanting to help neighbors. It is humbling. It gives me hope.

And, in addition to the disaster management and rebuilding efforts happening, we have an important (gosh, that word sounds so trivial) election looming. Every day since returning to my home, I have canvassed neighborhoods, made phone calls, or greeted voters at early voting sites across the county. It is such a privilege to be able to do so. To interact with neighbors, to see that people are okay, to reconnect with acquaintances, to talk about the local and state elections that will impact our lives perhaps even more than the federal one. To make sure that people understand where they can vote, that if they don’t have a photo id, they can request an exception since we are in a designated disaster area (as many people lost everything, including their ids, in the wake of Helene). To let people know that if they cannot stand in line, we have curbside voting at every polling site, and they can vote from the comfort of their car. To let people know that we have volunteers who will drive them to the polls if they don’t have a way to otherwise get there.

As I was canvassing yesterday, I met a resident who said he wasn’t voting, as he didn’t care for either of the presidential candidates. I’ve heard people say this before, and each time I hear it, it feels like a punch to the gut, and simply sucks the breath from me. I don’t understand how someone could not care about our system of government. About not caring about having a say in how our society works. I reminded myself to suspend judgment and get curious. I asked the resident about what issues are important to him, and if he would feel comfortable voting for the 20+ other races that are on the ballot, if he didn’t feel comfortable casting a vote for president. He considered that, and then asked to learn more about local and state candidates. I talked about the platforms of each, and gave him my phone number and asked him to reach out if he had any additional questions or wanted to discuss any of the candidates. I thanked him for his time, and he said he probably still wouldn’t vote, as he didn’t have time to research the independent and Republican candidates. I urged him to reconsider, and also realized I had done what I could, and needed to move on.

I’m so curious – for those of y’all who don’t vote – why? What has played into your decision to sit this one out?

3 comments on Commitment to Democracy
A New Chapter

October 11, 2024

Asheville Living, grief

On October 1, I resigned from Automattic after leading the People (Human Resources) function for 13 years and 11 months.

I am grateful for the relationships that I built while at Automattic – with Automatticians, with WordPress community members, with True Ventures colleagues (an investor in Automattic), and with attendees at conferences where I spoke on behalf of Automattic. My life is so much richer because of these relationships.

I am grateful for the work that I was privileged to do over the time I was at Automattic – setting up employment entities in new countries, hiring and building out the most amazing People team, supporting our small but mighty Learn team, creating policies there were supportive of Automatticians as we grew from a company of 50 individuals to over 2,000. I learned so much from my colleagues, and will miss them dearly.

So why did I leave? Recently Matt invited Automatticians who weren’t aligned with his interactions with WP Engine to leave the company. He asked me to model out a severance package that would financially support folks who chose to leave. At the same time, I had just learned of the destruction Hurricane Helene had wrought on my beloved home town of Asheville, NC (I was out of town for work when it struck, and have not returned home yet). I am still grieving the loss of my mother from earlier this year, in addition to continuing to grieve the loss of my father. As much as I knew I would grieve the loss of working with my phenomenal team (and I do), I also knew that it would not bring me joy to focus on a dispute between two tech companies. I wish Automattic and my colleagues the best, and hope that a resolution comes soon.

I feel called to support my beloved community and help with rebuilding and relief efforts. It’s been a long time (30 years???) since I didn’t work on a computer for hours each day. I look forward to the hard work that will likely bring callouses. I look forward to building something with my hands. A new chapter begins…

20 comments on A New Chapter
Happy Birthday, Mom

September 7, 2024

family, grief

You would have loved today. The temperature has dropped; it’s a lovely sunny, crisp day. As the sun set, I sat on our porch, as we had so many times before, rocking and watching the sky turn from a light blue to a medium blue to a dark blue to night. A bat circled overhead. Crickets sang their songs.

The dahlias are blooming. Bright oranges, yellows, pinks, and creams. The zinnias are hanging on, their pinks and oranges fading, just a few more days of beauty. The cornflowers are black, and soon they will drop their seeds, ensuring that we’ll have even more brilliant pink blooms next summer.

I miss you. I wish we could have had one more year with cupcakes and ice cream. Oh, who am I kidding? I wish we could have had many more years.

We gathered last weekend in Winston-Salem to celebrate you. So many friends were there. We shared stories about you. Your stubbornness. Your steadfastness. Your love of your community. Your love of ice cream.

Happy birthday, wherever you are. May all your wishes come true.

4 comments on Happy Birthday, Mom
Garden Flowers

August 30, 2024

Asheville Living

I stepped into the yard, small mason jar in one hand, clippers in the other. I held the jar next to the flowers, figuring out where I should cut, and which I should cut. A friend was making dinner, and I wanted the perfect combination of “thank you,” “here is a tiny manifestation of beauty for you,” and “isn’t nature glorious?”

1 comment on Garden Flowers
Every Good Story Starts with a Blank Page

July 31, 2024

Automattic

Automattic is home to two excellent publications, Longreads and Atavist. Longreads recently celebrated its 15th anniversary, and Atavist recently celebrated its 150th issue. Both huge milestones in publishing!

The teams celebrated in New York City with public readings and private parties. When they shared the recap, I noticed one of the giveaways from the evening was a Moleskin notebook with the phrase, “Every good story starts with a blank page.” on the cover. This resonated so much. I love a good story. I love a good notebook. The blank page excites me with the idea of so many possibilities. I commented on their recap, and a few days later, I received an unexpected package. Upon opening it, I found a few of these books! I squealed with delight. So many stories waiting to be written!

No comments on Every Good Story Starts with a Blank Page
June

June 30, 2024

Asheville Living

June was a month of fireflies, bears, birthdays, books, friends, and long days outside on the lake and in the garden. As the month ends, my heart is bursting with gratitude.

2 comments on June
And Then There Were Two

May 13, 2024

family, grief

I’m not sure when the tradition started. Definitely more than 20 years ago. I would come home from California. My sister and her family would come home from Georgia. And we would take a selfie of the three (or more) of us. Sometimes it was Mom, Ashley (my sister) and me. Before Grandma M passed, she would be in pictures as well. Sometimes Ashley’s daughter jumped into the frame.

This was before iPhones and before digital cameras. I would hold the camera out, aim towards our faces, take a few shots, and then hope the photos would be more or less in focus and in frame. We continued this tradition each time we were together, which was often just once a year, or once every couple of years. Most of the photos were of Mom, Ashley, and me.

Sunday I attended my nephew’s college graduation. After the ceremony, I pointed the camera at Ashley and me, tears welling in my eyes. It was the first selfie without Mom in the frame.

Perhaps our first selfie? September 2001 at Ocean Isle, NC

The last selfie outside of Mom’s nursing home. November 2023 at Flat Rock, NC

And then there were two. May 2024 in Atlanta, GA

3 comments on And Then There Were Two
Clouds

April 30, 2024

Asheville Living, Uncategorized

I prefer the aisle seat. And I relished the view from the window seat as I flew from Atlanta to Asheville at the day’s end. One day I’d like to bounce on a cloud. To be enveloped by its fluffiness. To be surrounded by soft. To surrender to silence. Maybe that’s not how clouds actually work. But I can dream.

2 comments on Clouds
The Eves

March 31, 2024

family, grief, Holidays

The days themselves aren’t as hard as I thought they would be. It’s the eves that do me in. Maybe it’s the anticipation. Of thinking about the day, of all the past days, of all the memories.

We didn’t often spend Easter together, so I thought perhaps this holiday wouldn’t impact me as much as others, such as Christmas and birthdays. But Easter is synonymous with Dad’s passing. He passed on Palm Sunday, and because it was a busy week for the holy folks, we didn’t hold his celebration of life until Easter Monday. The dates are different each year, yet the season reminds me these were our last days together.

And Mom loved Easter. I gave her a basket each year with treats and lots of chocolate, her favorite. I didn’t keep many of her clothes after she passed. There was a sweater I gave her one Easter, lavender with bunnies on it. She loved to wear that sweater. I kept that one. It’s too small for me; maybe I’ll repurpose it into a scarf. Or maybe I’ll simply pull it out of my drawer and remember how much Mom loved it and smile.

I was invited to a friend’s family get together on Easter eve. It was bustling, NCAA basketball was on the tv, and dozens of guests came throughout the evening. I made little treat boxes for the hosts. It was such a fun, joyful evening, the sadness of anticipation wasn’t dominant. When I got home, I reflected on our favorite Easters and fell asleep very grateful.

3 comments on The Eves
Alone.

February 17, 2024

family, grief
It’s my first Saturday home. Alone. I’m crushed by the expanse of free time I now have. What I once dreamed of is now haunting me.
- I’m not squeezing in a morning walk before rushing to East Flat Rock to visit with Mom.
- I’m not preparing carrot sticks, apple slices, and water bottles for the 40 minute drive to and from Mom’s place.
- I’m not running all my errands quickly so that I can spend as much of the day as possible with Mom.
This is what I am doing:
- I’m staring at a pile of condolence cards yet to be opened.
- I’m staring at the tax returns I need to prepare for me and for Mom.
- I’m staring at the boxes of Mom’s things that I need to go through to determine what to keep, what to donate.
Tears. So many tears.

I told myself in those last weeks that I had already lost Mom. She was unconscious, she couldn’t eat, she couldn’t speak, she couldn’t respond. Oh, how wrong I was. The pain of not sitting by her bed, of not holding her hand, of not brushing her hair, is so much more than I anticipated.
10 comments on Alone.