Tuesday, July 29, 2008

One Big Surprise at Bismarck's PrideFest

© 2008 Karen Van Fossan

The surprise? This Saturday, from 50 feet away, I heard someone call out to me, I care about you.

Do you remember the last time you heard, I care about you?
I'm more accustomed to hearing, I love you, from my brother, for instance.
Love, love, love, from Dragon Jane.
I like you, from Ferne's roommate, Marilyn.
I'll miss you over the weekend, from Ferne.
Be a good girl, from Grandpa Van. To which I always replied, You too.

The only time I recall hearing, I care about you, was this Saturday at the North Dakota Capital PrideFest. The words came flying across the road from a scripture-quoting protester. I care about you. Then he elaborated.

Like the other 1,099 PrideFest goers, I was quickly bound for hell.

I didn't give this statement a lot of thought at the time. I mean, there was a merry-go-round, after all. And a campfire, a live band, shared snacks, good friends, loving kids, the stranger who gave me a Mardi Gras necklace, someone's gentle hand to hold, not to mention a love-infested Dragon Jane performance.

I wonder, though. Had I given these words, I care about you, any thought at all, what might I have said?

Well, then, come on over! All kinds are welcome here.
Even me.
Even you.


Kathy B. said...

"I care about you, and therefore I will not attempt to change you from the person you were created to be." That works for me!

blogslut said...

Well, I'd much rather see you at Pride than in hell, anyway. Take CARE!

David said...

What? That phrase is actually used outside of painful breakups? :-D

Julie said...

I have yet to decide if I'm sorry that I missed the protesters or not.... I did miss you!!!
Let's not bring up that "thing" anymore, it's just to painful to remember....oh wait...I can't remember it!! L&H&HG!