Rainey Daze and Crazy Nights

Poetry, Paintings, and Ponderings: Through My Eyes

About Thanksgiving November 28, 2013

It is Thanksgiving here in the USA.

Thanksgiving should be celebrated simply as a time of thanks for the people we have in life. In my family, it is so hard.¬†When we see each other on Thanksgiving, we are like a room of strangers meeting to share a meal. I don’t really know my brother and sister anymore, and I know their children (and children’s children) even less. We will sit, mostly talking to my parents because they are our common ground. I will see the pity in their eyes when they ask about J, who is staying home because the bipolar demons have her again. I will watch their eyes sweep over S and her partner E as they judge their relationship (of which they know nothing). They will ask questions about them both, which I wouldn’t mind, except my family says things like: “Do you think you made S gay because you let her wear boy’s shirts when she was little?” or “Maybe J will get it together one day and stop being bipolar.”

You see, I am the “weird one”. I am the black sheep with the messed up children. I am also the one who refuses to be embarrassed by my daughter’s “gayness”. I refuse to let the word “bipolar” be a shameful word. Do I wish I could spare my children the pain I know they feel? Yes. I wish S could go through life without feeling the hatred and disgust some people (even family) have for lesbians. I wish J could go through life without the constant internal conflict along with the judgment she sees in the eyes of others, or the rejection she feels time and time again. But I would not, ever, change my children.

So, in a few short hours, I will gather over turkey and trimmings with the people I once lived with. I will be thankful for the bounty of food. I will be thankful that we are together as a family for another year. I will miss having J by my side, but thankful that E will attend the first Thanksgiving gathering beside S as her life partner.

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Life Break December 3, 2012

Boy and girl play ping-pong, circa 1950

Boy and girl play ping-pong, circa 1950 (Photo credit: Center for Jewish History, NYC)

Some days, I don’t have anything to say. Or rather, I have so much to say that I don’t know what to say! Today is one of those days. My thoughts are bouncing around in my brain like a ping-pong ball. So I guess today I will ramble.

  • My dog is sick. She has diarrhea and it is lasting much too long. I really have no money to take her to the vet, but I may not have any choice. I have called the vet and he said to try canned pumpkin to see if it helps. I pray she is better soon.
  • My daughter, J, is sick. She has a cold. She acts as if the world is ending. I have no pity.
  • It is December 3. DID YOU HEAR ME? DECEMBER 3rd ALREADY??!! I am not ready for Christmas. I have no spirit. I have no tree. I have no money. I have no desire to craft any gifts. <sigh>
  • I’m not really in a funk. Well, not totally. But I can feel the darkness, hovering just out of sight. I have fought it with all of my might, trying to hold it off. I think I’m losing the battle.
  • You know what I really want to do? Curl up in a ball in the center of my big comfy bed, and let someone else take care of everything. I would like to be able to just “be”. No demands, no problems, no fake cheer.
  • I cannot fall asleep at night. I lay there, tossing and turning, until finally I drift off. When the alarm screams at me, it feels as if I am in a coma and I fight to wake up and stay awake.

I need a life break.