Rainey Daze and Crazy Nights

Poetry, Paintings, and Ponderings: Through My Eyes

Finding the Happy Middle December 1, 2013

We did it. We went, we ate, we talked, and we made it out: alive and still friendly with all family members. Thanksgiving 2013: conquered.

On to Christmas. Tis the season to be jolly….to overspend on crap we don’t need…to eat until we gain weight… That is how it has felt for me the last few years.  But this year, it feels different. Not the way it was when my daughters were young, and everything was over the top. I seem to have found my Christmas spirit for the first time in a few years. I’m actually putting up a tree and a few decorations. Keep in mind, prior to 5 years ago, my house was the glow you could see on the horizon. Every bush and every tree sparkled and glowed. Icicles glimmered from the roof line, and trees peeked from every window. Then my spirit abandoned me. I didn’t even want a tree, and buying gifts was a chore.

I seem to have found a  happy middle. I’m kind of liking this.

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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.