Tag: love

Three Things

~ Kai Raines ~ Leave a comment

Now here it is, already 2025…20 days in and I am still not ready. The year went so fast and so many things did not go how I planned…I hate it when that happens…and so I have been dragging my ass into 2025, a little bit kicking and screaming. My resistance reminds me of a quote I read, from someone, that said, “I never let go of anything that didn’t have claw marks on it.” That is an exact description of me…written by someone who does not even know me. If you read my blogs, you are nodding your head right now because you know. You know it’s true. If you don’t follow me, see what you’re missing? Also, it’s time to start…Now! Please.

One of the things that did not turn out the way I planned was the presidential election. I was ready for a President Harris. I feel like I am living in backwards world, where being a dishonest, arrogant, hateful, convicted felon paves the way for you to become President and being an honest, compassionate, and intelligent woman gets you nowhere. So, as the inauguration is taking place, I am reminded of 3 things I did immediately after the results of the election:

I joined the ACLU and signed up to volunteer.

I bought all my grandchildren, (ages 11 to 20) a copy of the US Constitution and told them to read it. I instructed them to learn what their rights are because they may not have them much longer.

Finally, I told my son and his fiancé to get married now. They want to have a big, beautiful wedding and that is a celebration I am eager to be a part of. Planning that takes time…and I’m not sure how much time there is after January 20th. I suggested they get the marriage license now and get legally married while they still can. The supporters of Project 2025, with the cooperation of the Supreme Court, aim to reverse marriage equality. To which I’ve been known to say, “Just try and get my marriage license from me.” I don’t think you can un-marry people or nullify marriages…not legally anyway. But that may not matter. Clarence Thomas has already said that marriage equality needs to be “revisited” by the high court. There is an Idaho case working its way to the Supreme Court right now that seeks to redefine marriage as between one man and one woman. That is happening as I write.

Of my many grandchildren, one said she would keep the constitution in her purse, and one sat down and started reading it…I don’t play favorites but come on, he sat down and started reading immediately. I am a proud grandmother.

Most importantly, my son and his now husband got legally married on December 29th! I am so happy for them and so relieved. I’m not sure if straight people can understand how important it is to be legally married. If getting married was a given for you, I guess you might take it for granted. But if you have been denied that right, it is huge…HUGE! To be recognized as a married person…no special rights, just equality. It is something I did not think I would see in my lifetime. To have your marriage vows honored for their importance in your life and in our society. Being a family…legally a family. That is important shit right there. That is a right I fought for and that is a right I will continue to fight for. Maybe the President will find out that someone in his life, that he loves, is gay and he will reconsider. Or maybe he will grow a heart…him, the Tin Man and the Grinch. Maybe he will learn some kindness and equity. Maybe he will grow to see beyond dollar signs and what benefits him and his cohort of billionaires. Maybe, maybe, maybe…unlikely, I fear.

So where am I going with all of this? I wish I knew. I am tired, frustrated, and terrified. The future seems more unknown than normal…and more out of control. So, what to do, besides meditate, pray, volunteer, give money, educate myself and others, and hope. It seems like conditions are ripe in this country for hate, violence, domination, and fascism to run rampant over the rights of the non-elite. Even President Biden warned of a growing oligarchy right here at home…just like other autocracies. Fuck.

We all know the saying, “What doesn’t kill you makes you stronger.” In some ways this is killing me…killing all of us…our collective spirits for sure. What I have always believed about this country and the rights guaranteed to us in our constitution has been completely blow the fuck up. And although they, the new autocracy, may not see it now, this will destroy their supporters as well. I fear we are all headed over a cliff, many voluntarily, and most leaving claw marks as they try to resist…as I try to resist. This is a proper place for claw marks. You cannot destroy other people and be unaffected. You cannot create bigotry, fear, and hatred and remain undamaged…or untwisted. And there are some fucking twisted people running things now.

Although I do believe that difficult circumstances can make us stronger, I prefer to believe that what doesn’t kill us makes us kinder…or it can make us kinder. We must cooperate to become kinder…we have to learn from our circumstances and allow ourselves to seek kindness as a character trait. I must understand, we must understand, that what we do affects other people and the choices others make impact us too. We do not live or move or act in a bubble. Our actions have consequences. Our inaction has consequences as well.

I have been re-reading The Four Agreements” by Don Miguel Ruiz. In the book he discusses the term “domestication” which seems particularly relevant right now. From birth we are taught what to believe and how to act. We are rewarded for “good” behavior and punished for “bad.”  We learn to seek rewards and fear punishment. We learn our lessons and bury our own opinions or beliefs. We are afraid of the consequences of disagreeing or forging our own path. And so, tamed and trained we become compliant. Silent and compliant.

If ever there was ever a time in our history not to blindly follow, comply or agree, it is surely today. Today is the day to wake up. Wake up to the new form of domestication we are experiencing in subtle and not so subtle ways. The push to doubt what we see with our own eyes. To accept lies as the truth, “alternative facts” right? To hate anyone who is not like “us.” “Us” being white, wealthy, heterosexual, Christian, republican, and if you are male, all the better.

As I have said before I am trying to live “off the edge.” The edge being a chronic, low-level anxiety that seems to be my neutral…waiting for the next catastrophic or traumatizing event to occur. Today is not the day to lose my feel for the edge. For me, our nation is on the edge. The edge of what exactly I’m not sure…although it does not feel like anything good.

The best I have to offer myself or anyone else today is to take a deep breath. Breathe deeply and feel yourself grounded wherever you are. In this one moment, in that one breath, I am okay. For one breath you are okay. That is all we have, one breath at a time…for the next 4 years. We must wake up and remain awake even when other forces strengthen their attempts at domestication. No one gets to decide what I believe. They may have when I was younger but not now. I am who I am. I believe what I know to be true…what I see with my own eyes and what I hear with my own ears, what I investigate, study, and learn. Guided by my spirituality and the golden rule.

I cannot come off the edge today, or even in the near future, but I can remain attentive and aware of what is happening…in me, around me, and in the world. I can be aware and engaged. I can continue to breathe and be engaged…even when it’s hard…even when it sucks. That is all I have for now…breathe, stay grounded, stay engaged, and most importantly, allow this world to make me kinder…to make us kinder. Even when it seems impossible. Because in the end all that matters is how we love people. Choose love…every time. Love will win. It always does. And be kind…please. Now more than ever.

Off The Edge

~ Kai Raines ~ Leave a comment

It took me a long time to recognize this low-level anxiety that lives inside me. I feel like I am always on edge. Always expecting the next bad thing…the next person to hurt me or leave me without explanation. The next person to blow up at me, blame me, or take their anger out on me. The next crisis I need to be ready for. Being mentally and physically on edge contributes to me being on edge emotionally. All the time. It is exhausting.

I have been trying to create a way to mourn the loss of my mother. I am not sure how to do that when I feel angry at her. I’m hurt that she was so mean to me. I don’t know if I miss her because I haven’t been able to get past the other feelings. I feel guilty because I am relieved not to deal with her explosive outburst anymore. I don’t miss her hanging up on me multiple times a day. The years I spent away from her I wondered why she didn’t try to work things out with me or love me enough to fight for me. The years I lived with her in Florida, I understood that she hated me. That’s what she told me. That’s how she acted. She didn’t fight for me because she didn’t want me.

Now she’s gone and I am not sure what to do with all of that. I need to find a place where I can accept the situation as it was and accept her as she was…flaws, bitterness, cruelty and all. She wasn’t one thing. She wasn’t just mean. She wasn’t just angry. She wasn’t just cruel. She could be kind. She could be generous. She could be loving.

I am not one thing either. I am not just a person on edge. I am not just someone with anxiety. I can be kind. I can be generous. I can be loving. I’m a mix of all those things and more. Just like her. Sara Bareilles has a song called, “She Used to Be Mine” and she talks about this…sings about it. This song could be about me…or my mom. I’m not perfect but I try. I’m hard on myself and struggle with asking for help. I’m messy and I’m kind. I’m all those things smooshed together to make me.

The song goes on to talk about things coming into our lives that we don’t ask for and they shape us into who we are today…even if it’s not what we asked for…or not who we expected to be. I want to be willing to take risks. To be hurt but not destroyed. I want to be tough enough that when I get bruised, I can use that to grow stronger and more sure of myself. And when I feel stuck, for example now, I can rekindle a fire inside of myself to keep moving forward toward the person I am and the person I am meant to be.

I have been trying to create a ritual for myself to let her go. To let the experiences I had with her go. And to let the things she said to me go. I have felt heavy under the weight of her thoughts and feelings about me. I recently wrote about changing my name from Karen to Kai. Needing to move away from Karen because that’s the name she yelled at me and the name of the person she hated. This week I decided to change my name legally. The new name felt like a game of make believe. And I’m not playing a game. I’m creating the path to reclaim myself as myself…not who she said I was. I’m not trying to disown her or my family. I am taking steps to own myself and my identity. That’s mine to create, not hers to impose.

I had not planned to change my name legally. I surprised myself. I filled out the paperwork and I filed the petition. It’ll take a few months for the change to be ordered. I may have to attend a hearing to tell a Judge why I want to change my name. I’m not sure it’s really anyone else’s business why…of course that will not be my answer if the Judge asks. An attitude will get me thrown in jail…this is Florida after all. There was a ton of paperwork to fill out and get notarized before I could file the petition. I guess they’re making sure I’m not changing my name because I am on the run from law enforcement. I’m not. I promise.

I was not sure how I would feel after I filed the paperwork. I felt relief. I felt like a giant chain that weighed me down, with other people’s opinions fell away. I was standing up for myself. I felt like I was claiming my own identity without the input of my mom. This is me regardless of what she thinks or what she might have said. She would have been angry about the change. She would have taken it as a rejection of her. It is not about her at all. It is about me…claiming my own power and not allowing anyone else to tell me who I am or how I should be myself. The change is because of me not her. This is who I am. This is who I continue to become.

The acceptance I want to find for myself, I want to find for her too. I do not think my mom’s life turned out how she imagined, and she was bitter. I had no control over that. I did not ruin her life, regardless of what she thought. I loved my mom. We had a challenging relationship. In the end I was working to change it…make it better. That didn’t happen but it doesn’t mean I didn’t love her or that I didn’t try.

Loving is hard. I try my best, but I am not always great at it. I hope my love can be a solid ground for someone else. I always say that in the end all that matters is how we love people. So regardless of what happens I move forward and remind myself that I did not give up on love today.

Do not give up on love today. Never give up on love. Love always wins.

Still Broken

~ Kai Raines ~ Leave a comment

Well, it has been a week…not even a week yet. Fuck. My wife asked me how I was doing on Wednesday or Thursday, and I said I felt overwhelmed. She asked me why, as in specific reasons, not questioning my emotions. I said, “I don’t know…the end of our democracy.” And that silenced us both.

Since then, my fears have just multiplied. You may ask, “Why?” I will lay it out for you:

*Putin, seeing the election results, said that a “new world order is forming.”

*The plan for mass deportation of undocumented migrants in this country regardless of circumstances or the devastating impact on the economy.

*A federal judge striking down Biden’s program for undocumented spouses, as illegal. The program designed to keep families together.

*The undoing of the constitutional right to reproductive healthcare, including the right to an abortion.

*The blatant plan to reverse marriage equality.

*Texts sent to Black Americans telling them they have “been selected to pick cotton” at a nearby plantation. These texts went out to adults, as well as, college and high school students. And these texts were not just in Georgia, Alabama, Louisiana the states considered the deep south…were I guess people expect such racism, seriously? They were sent in New York, California, Pennsylvania, Ohio, Wisconsin, and Michigan. And that is not the entire list. What is happening?

*The rise of fear, anger, and hate, and a growing attitude of us vs them. The use of those emotions as weapons to pit us against each other…even when what we are hearing is not true.

*The supreme court granting the president almost complete unchecked power. The branches of government designed to act as the checks and balances of presidential power no longer function that way.

*The President Elect already preparing pardons for the January 6Th rioters who attempted to overthrow our government and disrupt the peaceful transition of power. People died that day. 174 police officers were injured. One was killed.

*Elon Musk promised a cabinet position where he will cut the federal budget by 3 trillion dollars. And they have told us that people will suffer.

*RFK Jr. will oversee the Department of Health…and specifically women’s health. There is nothing that makes less sense than a man appointed to make the rules or guidelines for women’s health. He is an unapologetic anti-vaccination and conspiracy theorist…which could lead to the return of illnesses that previously were eradicated by vaccines.

*Referring to anyone who disagrees with the administration as the “enemy within” and the threat of using the armed forces against citizens of this country.

*And the last thing I am going to mention (and I could go on), the President Elect plans to destroy the Department of Justice and fire all career prosecutors, to remake the justice system in his image and use it against his enemies…that would be anyone who disagrees with him.

I feel like I am living in The Hunger Games…only this is no game. I love movies, but I do not want to live in them. They are fantasy and not real…except when the leader of our country wants to make it real. The elite having all the privilege, access, and opportunity and everyone else existing to meet their needs and keep them happy. And to entertain them…fooling themselves into thinking that the game you are entering is a privilege rather than an atrocity. But in the end, it took 3 books, Katniss Everdeen, the girl on fire, prevails…but a lot of shit goes down before that can happen.

Back in 2020 I wrote a blog called, “Broken.” At the time I was feeling devastated because of Covid and the tremendous loss of life and the murder of George Floyd. I am sharing the link here (http://karenraines.com/2020/06/03/broken/) because I am still broken. We are broken. Our country is broken. It is easy now to feel like everything is out of our control and there is nothing we can do, but that is not true. This week I joined the ACLU and signed up to volunteer. It’s a small step but it’s a step. We all must make ourselves keep moving forward.

Here’s the thing, I always write about love. Love as a guiding principle in my life. The need for love in our treatment of other people. Seeing people who may not be the same as us through a lens of love. Love conquers hate. Love is bigger than any person’s bigotry. Love produces more love. When we act with love for ourselves, our communities, our country, our world, our actions become compassionate, filled with kindness, and a desire to connect, not separate. We come to care for one another and want the best for each other…regardless of the color of your skin, what pronouns you use, who you love, where you’re from, or what language you speak. We see and share our common humanity. In the end, what matters is how we love people. We have some serious work to do.

Love is powerful and healing. We need some healing…some big fucking healing. Is that going to happen right now? I hope so but I think we are in for a rough road ahead. While fear, anger, and hate are in the oval office love will appear to be losing…but it will not lose.

Love has been on my mind all week and I’ve been confused on how to proceed. I do not feel loving right now. I am scared and angry. So, I turned to some teachers to find comfort and direction. Buddha said, “In this world hate never yet dispelled hate. Only love dispels hate. This is the law, ancient and inexhaustible.” And St. Francis had a beautiful prayer that can help us move in a positive direction. “Make me an instrument of your peace, Where there is hatred, let me sow love; Where there is injury pardon; Where there is doubt, faith….that I may not so much seek to be consoled as to console; To be understood, as to understand; To be loved as to love.”

Now there are some marching orders. But I am not marching right now. I am staggering. We are staggering. I still feel a deep sense of shock and loss. We need to feel all the feelings and not rush ourselves to get over it. Take time. Time to care for yourself and those around you. Think about ways to get involved and stay involved. Imagine a world where equality is the norm, and everyone has the same opportunities. Imagine no racism, sexism, misogyny, homophobia, transphobia, elitism…all the isms and phobias eliminated. Picture that world. Create a picture in your mind or on a vision board. Look at in several times a day. Make it the first image of your morning and last image you see at night. Look at it and believe in the possibility…the possibility of real change. Let that image guide you to the next best step for you…for us. Remember, in the end all that matters is how we love people…especially when it’s hard. Love always wins. Let’s win together.

Clinging to Pride

~ Kai Raines ~ Leave a comment

Eight years ago last week, a man with a gun walked into Pulse Nightclub and murdered 49 people. 49 innocent people who were out dancing and having drinks with their friends. The gunman targeted Pulse Nightclub because it was an LGBTQ+ club. The gunman was looking for LGBTQ+ people to kill. He sought out queer people to kill (for simplicity I’m using the term “queer” here to cover the entire spectrum of the LGBTQ+ community). Of course, not everyone there was queer…because, in case you don’t know, queer people generally have straight friends…we don’t discriminate. 49 members of the community were gunned down for being queer or being friends with queer people.

It’s hard to remember Pulse Nightclub. It’s painful and traumatic. I didn’t live in Florida at the time, but it didn’t matter. LGBTQ+ people all over the country were as shocked and horrified as I was. I felt like we were being hunted…and we were. I think there were some questions about whether the gunman was gay. And I remember thinking, “you’d rather commit mass murder and die than be gay.” Seriously?! If that was true, it might be one of the saddest things ever.

Now, hold that thought in your head, Pulse Nightclub, 49 people dead, feeling hunted, the fear of going out…and imagine listening to a Supreme Court justice’s wife talk about how angry it makes her to look at a Pride flag in June. How much she hates it and wants to hang her own flag instead. And she described her flag (which she said she created in her mind) as white with yellow and orange flames framing the Italian word “vergogna” in the middle. The Italian word “vergogna” means “shame.” She created a flag in her head because she is so angry looking at the pride flag. Of course, first, she’d have to take down her US flag which she had hanging upside down at her house. She said this after almost daring the media to come after her because she’ll “get them.” Take that in for a moment…a US Supreme Court justice’s wife said that. And not just that, a US Supreme Court justice had the American flag hanging upside down at his own home. Just like the insurgents who stormed the US Capital on January 6th.

Now Justice Alito claims it was his wife who hung the flag upside down…way to throw her under the bus. There’s been statements from neighbors contradicting the justice’s report. He is also on tape talking about the necessity of returning to Christian nationalism, although this country was founded on religious freedom so it’s not a return, it’s a turn as far to the right as you can go. He also talked about not being able to really work with the other side…meaning people without his same views. Let me just say this…he’s a fucking US Supreme Court justice! His whole job is listening to different sides of arguments and applying the law fairly, regardless of his own opinions…which are supposed to remain private. That explains a lot about the current state of the Supreme Court.

I used to be intrigued by the Supreme Court and the justices. I admired them…some more than others. I got to hear oral arguments in front of them once, while I was in law school. They step out from behind the red curtains…it’s all very official, and intimidating. I used to read their decisions, and the dissenting opinions, to understand the laws that they were upholding or striking down. That was when I believed that the Supreme Court did uphold the constitution, legal precedents, and the settled law of this country. The legal term, as I was taught in law school, is “stare decisis” meaning “the thing is settled.”

Enter 2024, where the court overturned a 50-year precedent and the settled law of this country, because they personally object to abortion. They took away reproductive freedom from every woman in this country with that ruling. They also took away many options, sometimes the only option, women had for basic healthcare, because of all the clinics that were forced to close. And they have laid the groundwork to block access to gender affirming care for trans people…because women no longer have control over their own bodies. My ability to decide what I can and cannot do to my body has been stripped from me, stripped from all women. Perhaps the Supreme Court is going to make our decisions for us…we should have at least had a drink first, before the women of this nation were screwed. Healthcare is a personal matter. Reproductive healthcare even more so.

It’s Pride month and I want to be all out and loud and proud but I’m not. I’m scared. I’m scared for our country. I’m scared for all LGBTQ+ people in this nation. I remember when Jerry Falwell said that 9-11 was God’s punishment for homosexuality. I thought that was about as low as a person could go with their personal views. But WTF!?? Look who’s talking now! The impartial, not allowed to get involved in politics, 5 conservative justices of the Supreme Court. The ones who promised to be impartial and stated they would not overturn settled law… and they would not allow their personal beliefs to influence their decisions, even about abortion.

And they didn’t, until they actually started hearing cases…and then the precedents started to fall…Roe, affirmative action, bump stocks on guns…one by one they all fall down. And the always helpful, and rarely involved, Clarence Thomas, has said the court needs to revisit marriage equality…also settled law. Since when do the justices announce what kinds of cases they want so they can direct the laws and the country in the way they personally feel it should go? Never mind the 75% of people in this country who support marriage equality. And never mind that people in this country don’t get to decide whether they think I should have the right to marry the person I love or not. I don’t need your approval and frankly, I don’t want your opinion. It’s still illegal to legislate hatred.

We are a nation that has lost its way. We are an arrogant, self-righteous nation that is fucked up. And my wife and I are not the the problem. When 65% of republicans say voting for a convicted felon for president is not an issue to them…we have a problem. We are a nation that refuses to learn…or maybe we’re just reluctant to learn…or can’t see well with our heads up our asses. I’m angry. I’m angry and sad and scared.

It’s asinine to claim that you are upholding the constitution while you dismantle the very rights that are the law in this country…now past tense. If you want to stick with the framers of the constitution, which is the standard rational, then all the rights are for white men. The framers were interested in protecting the rights of wealthy, white, landowners…in other words, themselves. So, there would be no right to vote for women or any people of color, it would be illegal to be gay, we’d still have segregation, shit we’d still have slavery, if you stick with the framers. Because their concerns were for people like them. And be clear it’s men like them. The constitution is designed to be a living document that evolves as a country evolves, because the framers could not have imagined the world as it is now.

I heard President Biden talking about current issues with our country, or the leaders of our country, and he said they are “old ghosts in new garments.” My first thought was, who wears “garments?” No one since the 1800’s. But he’s right. We’re a better nation when our goal is equality…at least theoretically. We’re a better nation when we are moving forward and not recreating the mistakes of the past. We’re a better nation when all different people can marry…different races and same sexes. We’re a better nation when we don’t allow cruel and unusual punishment. When we require Miranda rights for people in police custody. When we acknowledge that all people should be equal, and we set our eyes on equality as our goal. Title IX, probable cause, the right to an attorney, non-discrimination, freedom of speech…and the list goes on. We’re a better nation when we follow our own fucking laws.

So, what do I do? What do WE do? Something’s gotta give or we’re in a huge crisis…more accurately, we’re in a huge crisis and I don’t want to see it spiral out of control anymore than it already has. I’m always talking about love but really what’s love got to do with it? RIP Tina Turner…it’s got everything to do with it. If I am loving my neighbor as myself, which is the golden rule after all, then I care what happens to you like I care what happens to me. I don’t want laws that hurt you anymore than I want to be hurt. I want you to have affordable healthcare. I want you to be free to make choices about your own body. I don’t want anyone to interfere with your right to vote and to have your voice heard. I want you to have equal access to schools, jobs, careers, housing, healthcare, and all the opportunities available in our country.

So that’s what I do. That’s what we do. We engage. We pay attention. We love when it would be so much easier to hate. We look for common ground…our common humanity. We look for the strands of the values we believe in within other people. We look for ways to unite our country, our communities, because they are so divided right now. We recognize that everyone wants to be loved. Everyone wants to be part of a community, to belong. Everyone wants to be safe and happy. We take baby steps toward understanding views that differ from our own. We look for commonalities rather than focus on differences. I understand that I am not the only person afraid in our country. I can empathize with others…we can empathize with others. We can be open minded, kind, compassionate, and honest. We can choose to love over and over again until love wins. Because love always wins…it must win. It’s the perfect time to remember that in the end all that matters is how we love people. Buddha said, “Hatred does not cease by hatred, but only by love; this is the eternal rule.” Let’s try the eternal rule for a change.

Gender…To Assign or Not To Assign…That Shouldn’t Be A Question

~ Kai Raines ~ Leave a comment

In the past, I suggested that parents should have a three-day waiting period before they can name their baby. It makes sense to get to know someone before you name them. Now, I have another suggestion, and that is that we eliminate the terms male/female, boy/girl from our vocabulary. What would it be like if someone had a baby and when we asked them the “what did you have?” question they answered “a baby” because after all it’s not a puppy. So, we call it a baby and then refer to it as they or them. What if we did that until the baby grew up and decided what they wanted to be called? Or better yet what if we never needed to be called anything? We were all just people with a name. How empowering would that be? The affirmation of gender identity and expressions…and the respect of all people as unique individuals.

Gender is the first label we give a baby. We want to know what our baby is before it’s even born. We’re so excited about assigning gender that we have gender reveal parties…some of which have caused huge fires and lots of destruction…maybe that’s a sign to stop…but I digress. If we meet someone with children we ask, “What do you have?” Well, they’re children of course. Did I not just say that? But that’s not what people want to know. They want to know the assignments…how many boys and how many girls. What would someone do if we just said we had baby or two children or three adult children?

Gender is a made-up distinction created to categorize people. And to prioritize them. Men are valued more than women, so we need to know who’s most important. We put labels on people to put them in neat little boxes for our own comfort…for our own ease of living or thinking or understanding. For our own valuation and control. And we do it from birth. Hell, we do it before birth with our desire to know our baby’s gender before they’re even born. We act like it’s critical that we be assigned a gender but why? It’s only necessary because we say we must have that label…or because we need to assign value. Because that’s what we’re doing we aren’t assigning gender we’re assigning value and worth.

I think everyone should use the pronouns they/them. Then no one would be misgendered. I have been called “sir” many times. Some of the people at my mother’s nursing home asked her if I was her son. Sometimes I just called he or sir. When I was in high school, we were going on vacation I guess and a flight attendant, (then referred to as a stewardess…see how we can change), told my mom she had a nice-looking son. She was so mad at me. I’m not sure exactly why because I didn’t do anything. I tried to make a joke out of it and said, “At least she said I was nice-looking.” I’m pretty sure the reaction I got was that she should have never let me cut my hair.

I hate being called a man. It’s embarrassing and something more…it’s spirit wounding. It’s humiliating. It feels as though I’ve done something wrong…or that I am something wrong. I’m not sure there’s another way to feel less seen than being misgendered. And why do we need to mention gender all? Why can’t we refer to someone as a person instead of a man or a woman? Why must we assign a gender to everything? There’s no reason to add ma’am or sir to a sentence like “can I help you?” My gender has nothing to do with anything…unless you’re only going to help me if I’m a man, and then you have all kinds of problems.

When I was talking with my wife about being misgendered, she said, “It’s because of your hair.” She’s always helpful. My hair is very short, and I could go shorter. Why am I supposed to have long hair? Long hair is very attractive on some people, but I hate it for me. Certainly, more men are growing their hair long…and I don’t understand…it’s so hot. It’s my personal opinion that people assigned male at birth get all the best hair cuts, all the best clothes…definitely all the comfortable clothes. I’ve always been envious. Women’s clothing is too short and too tight…and shoes with 4 inches heels? Seriously? Fuck no!

When I was growing up, I wasn’t allowed to have short hair. My mom made me keep it long and then got mad at me when it was all knotted. She called it a “rat’s nest.” Thanks for that image. The thing is I didn’t sign up for long hair…she did…although her hair was short so that’s confusing. We lived in Wisconsin during my forced long hair period of my life…really it’s just when I realized I couldn’t have short hair. I had to have long hair and, to make it even worse, girls were not allowed to wear pants to school. How fucked up is that? Apparently, I talked to the principal and convinced him to drop that rule. I don’t actually remember. So, the policy changed but not my mom. She still wouldn’t let me wear pants. Fortunately, in the winter it was freezing cold, so girls wore pants under their skirts to keep their legs warm. I did that too. And then instead of taking the pants off when I got to school, I took off the skirt. That way I got to wear pants too…super clever. It didn’t work so well with dresses. Eventually I got to wear pants and in 7th grade I got a haircut…remember the shag? It sounded better than it looked.

There’s some Bible verse that says a woman’s hair is her crown…or some bullshit used to make sure women know their place. The submissive, subservient female always deferring to a man…always. I was accused of hating men once. Why?  Because I’m a lesbian. That’s some bullshit…some so called “Christian” bullshit. Personally, I’m a Buddhist. Buddhist monks and nuns shave their heads. That’s definitely where I belong. How does gender labeling happen in communities where everyone shaves their heads and wear the same robes?

I heard Glennon Doyle talk about gender once on her podcast. She said she feels her gender is something she wears on the outside. She wears her female gender outwardly but doesn’t feel “female” on the inside. I can totally relate to her. I identify myself as female but by societies standards my gender presentation is more male. I like sweats, tennis shoes, and t shirts. My wife says that my shorts are “sweat shorts” not sure that’s a thing. What they are is comfy cotton shorts, men’s shorts because they are longer and looser. I told my mom that tennis shoes are the new dress shoes. She hated that as much as I love it.

I was criticized growing up for not being the right kind of girl or not being enough of a girl. I got the clear message that I was doing something wrong or lacking in some way. When I wore suits for work, I wished I could get men’s suits because they got all the beautiful suits with matching shirts and ties. You will not now or ever see me in a dress, skirt, or high heels…I wouldn’t even be able to stand up in them. When I was in law school, we had to do this argument in front of a mock appellate court. Our mentor person told us that women had to wear skirts or dresses. Now if you know me, you know I don’t speak up much in a group setting, but I told her no. I told her I wouldn’t and that I could not be given a lower grade just because I wore pants. So, I wore a nice jacket with pants, and I got an A. So there. I had a friend tell me once that I just needed to be dressed like GI Joe and I’d be happy…possibly true, but now it’s the older sweats and flip flops version of GI Jane.

We love our labels and categories. Why is pink for girls and blue for boys? My favorite color happens to be blue…although I do look good in a soft, pastel pink. Who makes these rules and why do we follow them? Several years ago, I was asking my grandson what he wanted for Christmas. Besides a skateboard, he wanted a helmet…a purple helmet. Then he added, “not girl purple, boy purple.” Now for him that meant dark purple not lavender. Where did he get the idea that there are boy colors and girl colors? Why am I steered away from dark colors to pastels because I’ve been assigned to the female gender?

I did my best to be gender neutral in toys for my own children and my grandchildren. I did buy my grandson a Mulan doll because he wanted one desperately. He loved it! So much so, he used it as a hammer, and it broke. Some things are beyond stereotypes.

Why do people get so irate over this discussion? Why should anyone care if I want to use the pronouns, they/them? Aside from not being able to classify people the way we want to, why should you care and why should you get an opinion about my identity? You may disagree with me on tons of things…politics, global warming, racism, poverty, any of hundreds of things. What you do not get to disagree with me on is who I am. You don’t get a fucking say in who I am. You don’t get to tell me that we can agree to disagree…fuck no. I say who I am. You have no say, and I don’t need your opinion.

Now Florida, the state that regulates everything but guns, is passing a law stating that you can only identify yourself by the gender you were assigned at birth. WTF!? So, that’s unconstitutional. You can’t make it illegal for me to call myself by the pronouns I choose or to say I am nonbinary or to tell you I’m a female even if I was assigned male at birth. You don’t get to have laws that codify discrimination. Who knows more about who I am, me or a judge? It’s ridiculous that the question even needs to be asked. You don’t get to tell me how I can identify myself. Sorry Florida.

I think it’s too bad that genitalia can be identified at birth, usually. It would be great if it didn’t develop until we were in our teens or maybe at 18 when you’re legally an adult. If they developed later then a child or a teenager could tell you if they were male or female or nonbinary. Or we could just drop gender labels all together since they’re made up. There would be such freedom without gender labels. Maybe we could allow our gender to be fluid and not lose our freaking minds. Why are we so threatened by this?

If I tell you my name is Bob you don’t get to call me Harry, because that’s not who I am. I tell you who I am. You do not get to tell me. If I say I use the pronouns they/them you do not get to call me she/her because I just told you who I am. You do not get to tell me who I am or how I can identify myself. I tell you.

My sexual orientation or gender identity or gender expression is up to me…only me. I know who I am and if you’re lucky I may allow you to know me. I don’t get to tell people that being straight is a sin and they’re going to burn in hell. Why? Because it’s none of my fucking business. And you have no business in my business. You do not get to debate or disagree with my identity. You do not get to tell me that who I am is wrong. We can disagree about all of our opinions all day long. My identity is not opinion. It’s fact. I identify as a woman, and I am a lesbian. That is not up for debate.

Now let’s be real…our world seems to be in a precarious place…our country is for sure. It’s time to stand up and speak out. If we stand by and do nothing, we are complicit in allowing laws like Florida is passing to become the accepted standard. What about all the children growing up and restricted from expressing their authentic selves? What about being judged and told that who you are is wrong? LGBTQ+ youth are FOUR times more likely to attempt suicide than their peers! How many lives do we need to destroy before we, as a country, pull our heads out of our collective asses and stand up for individuality? Why do we not understand you cannot legislate who people are? I thought republicans were against the government being involved in everything…well back the fuck off.

Our country runs on fear. Fear of “others” whoever that is. You don’t understand why I’m gay or why I’m nonbinary, so you won’t allow it. Make a law. The thing is it’s not up for you to allow or not allow. This country was founded on freedom…the freedom for people to be who they are or who they strive to be. What happened to that attitude. We can not legislate everything that we’re told to be afraid of, like people who are “different” in their expressions of who they are. We’re all different in our own ways.

I have a couple suggestions…why don’t we follow this sage advice, “if you can’t say anything nice don’t say anything at all.” Wouldn’t that be refreshing? It would be amazing. And how about, “treat others the way you want to be treated.” That’s a rule I can live with. Let’s make those laws. And finally, can we not just be kind and loving. I guarantee that no one will be turned away from heaven for loving people who are gay, or lesbian, bi, nonbinary, trans, drag queens (who are performing artists by the way), or straight…yes, some straight people are hard to love.

Remember that in the end all that matters is how we love people…because love is going to win. It always does.

Why Would It Be Different In Heaven?

~ Kai Raines ~ Leave a comment

Mother’s Day was Sunday. I was asked several times how I was doing on my first Mother’s Day without my mom. There is no simple answer to that…or maybe no nice answer. The last two Mother’s Day’s were horrible. My mom was angry and mean. She spent the day yelling at my dad and I and slamming things around. So, it would be dishonest to say that I really missed her Sunday. I was grateful to spend this Mother’s Day with my daughter, grandchildren, and great-grandson. It was a beautiful day.

Prior to the last two years, I didn’t see my mom for twelve years. And although I sent her a text message each year, I know she didn’t read them…possibly because I sent them and also because she didn’t do texting. I always struggled to find a Mother’s Day card for my mom. They tend to be pretty mushy and sentimental…two things I don’t feel about my mom. I wouldn’t give her a card with words I didn’t mean and so I always got her funny cards, which she hated. She liked to be gushed over. The last two years I gave in and gave her sentimental cards and they didn’t make any difference to her. She wasn’t speaking to me, so she didn’t even acknowledge them.

The last time I saw my mom she was not in a great space or mood. She looked at me and pretty snarkily said, “I should have never moved to Wisconsin!” I told her we weren’t in Wisconsin. She asked where we were and then said, “I should have never moved to Florida.” Shortly after that she turned away from me, curled up, and went to sleep. That was the last conversation I had with my mom. She’s been on my mind so much.

I’ll be honest…I’m tired of grief. I am way the fuck over it. It isn’t as neat and orderly as I’d like it to be. It’s a fucking mess. I’m a fucking mess. I would like to know when I’ll be okay…when will I just feel like me again. Maybe I won’t…I mean I am an orphan after all. I would like to know something else…actually I’d like to know everything else, but specifically, right now, I want to know what it’s like to die. What does it feel like? I have some fears around dying…not so much the actual death but the being dead. I’m afraid I’ll miss people and be sad and lonely. I suppose at that point it won’t matter…it’s not like I can be suddenly undead…aren’t zombies the only people that can do that? Are they even people? I digress.

This is what happens to me when my wife travels. My mind runs wild with unanswerable questions. She had to go back to Colorado for work. Leaving my English Bulldog, Abby, and I alone in Florida. It’s the first time I’ve been here without either of my parents alive. I’d like to say Abby is helpful, but mostly she’s just sleepy. She needs her full 22 hours of sleep a day.

P!nk wrote a song after her dad’s death called, “When I Get There.” In the song she asks why things would be different in heaven than they were here. Or why would her dad be different in heaven. I think she says he was always first in line, and he always said what was on his mind…things like that. It’s funny because I’ve been wondering the same thing…mostly about my mom. Why would things suddenly be different just because someone died? Why would she be different just because she’s dead?

I floated this idea past my wife, just to see what she thought…she didn’t like it. She reminded me about all the accounts people have given of near-death experiences…I guess more accurately they are dying and being brought back to life stories. People report seeing a bright white light that’s warm and welcoming. They hear the voices of people they love who have died. This reassures her, and millions of others, that there is a heaven, and it’s our final destination.

Personally, I don’t believe in heaven or hell. I do believe in reincarnation. The energy that is the core of who we are, our soul or spirit, has to go somewhere. I think it comes back in another form. I’m pretty sure I’ll be back as a gnat or an ant, because I’ve killed many of them when they’ve invaded my home. Side note…The other day there was an ant on our counter. Now instead of killing it, I picked it up and went to put it outside. And that little fucker bit me. It left a red lump on my palm. That’s karma baby…but I still didn’t kill it. I used to tell the little kids in my mindfulness program that we don’t kill things just because we can…they would usually stomp ants anyway. I tried.

I have read several of books by James Van Praagh, the psychic medium. I’ve also seen him in person and watched him connect people in the audience with departed loved ones who have a message to give…or just something to say. He’d ask the audience if a name or specific situation, that he was describing, meant something to anyone in the audience. Someone would raise their hand and then he would begin to tell them about who was there to talk to them and what they were saying. He was able to provide very specific information about people, situations, causes of death, etc. He’s really impressive.

I have heard James Van Prague talk about what happens when we die. He had said that through his readings he’s learned that there isn’t a heaven or hell, although he does use the term heaven anyway. He explained that when we die our energy goes with like energy. If you were a loving and kind person in your life you would be surrounded by others with similar loving and kind energy. If you were mean and hateful then you would be attracted to the mean and hateful energy of the departed. So, in a sense we create our own heaven or hell. I suppose that’s good news and scary news.

Now I was raised Catholic. I come from an Irish Catholic family that has its attachment to Catholicism rooted in Ireland. My grandmother went to church early in the morning, before she had to work, at least several days a week. Then church on Sundays and confession probably every week. Now all of that is to say that there was no other option than being Catholic in my family…and it wasn’t really an option to just not be anything.

In my Catholic training (catechism classes…yay.) I learned about purgatory. Purgatory is an intermediate state between death and heaven. It’s a place of temporary suffering. Merriam-Webster says that it’s a “place or state of suffering wherein…the souls of those who die in God’s grace may make satisfaction for past sins and so become fit for heaven.” I’m gonna have to say “no thank you” to that good news…yikes!

What I don’t understand is if you go to confession, as required in the Catholic Church and you do your Hail Mary’s, or whatever the priest assigns, you’re supposed to be forgiven…so why the pit stop to be punished again? Although it sounds super fun…I’ll give it a hard “oh fuck no.” Why change if you still end up suffering before you’re good enough for heaven? Heaven being the goal for most people. I don’t believe in purgatory either. I do think there’s a gap between when we die and when we are reborn, but I don’t think it’s punishment.

So why is all this on my mind? I’ll tell you. I worry about my mom. I worried about her when she was alive, and I worry about her now. My mom was not a happy person…at least not the mom I experienced. She had a difficult life as a child and that shaped who she was and how she saw herself. She didn’t believe anyone loved her. She didn’t think my dad loved her, even after almost 70 years of marriage. She was damaged as a child and that kept her from fully accepting who she was. It also kept her closed off to recognizing and receiving love. She may not have had love as a child, but she was loved by many as an adult. It’s very sad to me that she couldn’t accept love. I worry now that she might feel alone. She didn’t like to be alone. She was scared alone. Nothing I learned in catechism told me how to address those fears.

Personally, I believe that our souls or spirits are timeless because we’ve been here before…many, many times. I don’t think that a love connection you shared with someone while you were alive is gone when you die. I think that love bonds go on forever. Maybe it’s like object permanence…even when a person you loved is gone from your presence, you know they still exist out there somewhere. And the love you shared with them continues.

I think part of the process of death and reincarnation is our souls working out past karma…karma from our current lives and past lives. James Van Praagh has explained that after death people of like minds gravitate together and share a natural attraction. So, for example, a soul like Hitler, who created mass destruction, devastation and death, will be attracted to similarly dark energetic souls.

James Van Praag describes “heaven” as having many levels and that the one that we enter right after we die is similar to our existence on earth and that people eventually evolve from these earth-like levels. He says that our soul’s movement is enabled by understanding that religion is a human tool and is not needed in the higher planes. From his experience communicating with spirits, he has learned that the only religion is love.

If we enter heaven with a similar mindset that we had while we were alive, then why would things be different in heaven? If you go to heaven as the same person you were two minutes before you died, then what’s different in heaven, besides being dead? I wonder if that’s confusing to a spirit…seems like it to me. I guess there’s no instant angelhood…I’m not sure that’s a word or a thing.

My mom was an angry person and she held on to resentments. I worry that heaven might not be great for her right now. I want her to find peace and rest but I’m not sure that’s immediately available to everyone. I don’t want her to live in an eternal place that’s as painful for her as her life was. The good news, according to James Van Praagh anyway, is that there’s no mental illness after death. Mental illness is a condition of the physical world. I don’t know who my mom would have been or what she would have been like without mental illness…maybe now she’ll have the opportunity to find out.

Honestly, I hope there’s healing in heaven…if there is a heaven…or wherever we end up. I don’t think there’s a place up in the sky where the dead, the “good” dead, reside, playing the harp and laying on clouds. But if heaven is where we go to work out our past karma and await rebirth, that makes more sense to me. If our mindset can continue to evolve and progress even after we die, then the work never ends…the work of becoming never ends. We are always becoming even after we cease to be on this planet. Maybe we have the ability for clear retrospect when we die. Maybe we can see more accurately what was available to us when we were alive. Maybe we see missed opportunities or missed understandings. Maybe we get to have all that we thought we missed out on…love, belonging, gratitude, rest, being seen and loved for who we are.

I definitely have more questions than answers with all of this death stuff…and I’m in no hurry to experience it firsthand. What I do know for sure is that in the end all that matters is how we love people. Because love wins…always.

And for you mom…May you find peace. May you find rest. May you know you are loved.

A Letter To Brittney Griner

~ Kai Raines ~ Leave a comment

This morning, I heard a portion of an interview Robin Roberts did with Brittney Griner. What I heard made me want to write her a letter. I hope it somehow finds it’s way to her through cyberspace. So here goes….

Dear Brittany,

I saw you on GMA this morning and wanted to write you. I wish we were friends so that I could talk to you and tell you to be gentle with yourself. You made a mistake. People make mistakes…all the time. Don’t let anyone tell you differently. Some mistakes might have more consequences but it’s still just a mistake. No one should be judged by one misstep. Just today my wife called to tell me that she found her pocketknife in her backpack. This is the backpack that she just took on a flight from Florida to Colorado a week ago. She forgot it was in there. Imagine that. We all forget.

I don’t think you let everyone down. I don’t think you let anyone down. You didn’t plan to commit a crime. You weren’t masterminding a scheme and hoping to get away with it. You forgot. My wife forgot. Please forgive yourself. Don’t let this drag you down anymore. You were a victim. You deserve forgiveness…your own. I’m not sure you need anyone else’s forgiveness.

I know you have a wonderful and supportive wife who fought to get you home everyday. I can’t even imagine was this was like for both of you. You’re expecting a child and I know you have twins. If there is one thing parents know about its mistakes…their children’s and their own. I doubt you would be angry at your own child or blame them if they were in the same situation you were in. You’d help them forgive themselves and assure them that you weren’t mad at them. You’d tell them you understood it was simply a mistake and that all they needed to do was learn from it.

I hope you’re talking with someone about everything you’ve been through. I hope they’re helping you. Forgive yourself so you can continue to move forward. What other people think about you or what happened doesn’t make any difference. You can’t control what other people think. I’d try and be exposed to any negativity as little as possible. Surround yourself with the people who love you and believe the best about you…and there are many…some you know and lots that you don’t. Tell everyone else to kindly fuck all the way off.

Its easy for people to judge when they weren’t there…because they weren’t there. They have no idea what you’ve been through. One mistake does not diminish or define you. Don’t let anyone convince you otherwise. It was just a mistake…a mistake that was used against you to make you a political pawn. I’m sorry you were used by the Russian government. I’m sorry our government didn’t get you out of there sooner. I am very grateful they did bring you home.

Don’t listen to all the bullshit from the bullshitters. You know who you are. Your wife knows who you are. Your family, friends, and your teammates know who you are. I’ve followed you since Baylor. I had the chance to see you play at the University of Colorado one year. You were amazing. You are amazing. I feel as though I know you because you are genuinely you. That’s obvious to anyone who takes the time to see.

I’m glad you’re safe. I’m glad you’re home. I’m glad I get to watch you play in the WNBA again and hopefully in the Olympics. Do what you need to do to heal. You don’t owe anyone an explanation. I’m grateful for the gift of you in this world. The world is a better place with you in it. I’d be proud to have you as my daughter. You are a kind and loving person…and in the end all that matters is how we love people.

May you be happy. May you be healthy. May you live with ease.

                                                                                                                           

Difficult Teachers

~ Kai Raines ~ Leave a comment

I was catching up on the tv show “The Good Doctor” earlier this week. This is the final season so I guess it’ll be extra dramatic…as if a drama needs more drama. Anyway, a main character was murdered. He was killed in an anti-Semitic, anti-gay hate crime. Being a card-carrying member of the LGBTQ+ community that was difficult to watch…even when it’s not real…probably because it is real. So, Asher died and there was very sad funeral. All the people were crying, and I started crying. Pretty soon I was sobbing…and sobbing.

Have I mentioned that I’ve been having a hard time grieving for my parents? I guess mostly for my mom. I have such mixed-up feelings about her. I’ve been pretty shut down…sad but shut down. I feel confused about grieving for someone I loved so much but was angry at and deeply hurt by. I have unresolved feelings about her and I’m not sure how to resolve them or come to terms with them…or even just how to not allow her to hurt me anymore. I realize she’s gone but I have an excellent memory…and she was a powerful figure in my life.

I read a story about Buddha where he talked about a personal attendant of his who aggravated him and made him angry. His attendant was difficult to deal with. Buddha had the choice to send him away, but he didn’t. He said that it’s the difficult people in our lives who are our best teachers. Those are the people who challenge us to really look at ourselves honestly. My mom was definitely one of those people for me.

Growing up I didn’t want to be like her. I was afraid of her. I think I developed my personality in reaction to her…or reaction against her. I am who I am in large part because of her. I had an idea of who I thought she was, or how I thought she was, and I was determined not to be like her at all.

I never thought I was much like my dad either until my parents lived with us. I have some the the same quirky habits he had. My wife would say annoying not quirky. If he wanted something to eat, he’d tell you, but he’d also tell you exactly how he wanted it. For example, chicken noodle soup in a cup, not a bowl, with a chicken leg in the cup so the soup would warm it up. Or 3 crackers with a small spoon of cheese spread, and 3 olives. My mom got so mad at him for that. I got mad at him for mansplaining to me how to clean up my dogs’ vomit…so I understand the frustration. When my wife offers to make me a sandwich, I give instructions too…very specific instructions. That is why she doesn’t make me sandwiches anymore. I get that.

In a song from the musical, “Wicked” called “For Good.” It’s Elphaba and Glenda singing about their friendship. When they first met, they hated each other…there’s a song called “What Is This Feeling” and what they feel for each other is loathing. But I digress…the change song talks about people coming into our lives for a reason, which we may or may not understand. They come to teach us something. We are led to people who will help us to grow. The women say that because of their friendship they’ve been changed for good…as in permanently. They question whether they’ve been changed for the better but definitely for good. At the end of the song, they say that because they knew each other, they have been changed for the better…and for good.

I became who I am because of my parents. I was definitely changed for good…and I think for the better. There’s an ebb and flow in relationships…all relationships. There are times we’re closer to someone and times we feel more distant. Sometimes we need the proximity and sometimes we need the space. Relationships are constantly changing and constantly in motion. That continuous flow changes us. Rocks are shaped by the movement of water. Water wore through rock over millions of years and as a result we have the Grand Canyon.

People are shaped by movement as well. The movement of negotiating relationships…all of them. Personalities rub against each other and the rough edges of who we are, the things we cling to smooth out over time. They change us for good. We are not the same person we were at the beginning of the relationship. They also change us for the better if we are intentional about our relationships and our interactions. We become more of who we were meant to be…we become more truly who we are.

Some people believe that we chose the life and family we’re born into long before we are ever born. Maybe I did. Maybe I chose all the pain and challenges I was born into. I know that because I knew my parents, as my parents, I was changed for good, and I was changed for the better. I am a better person because of them.

Let’s be real…we are shaped and sculpted by all the relationships we have in our lives. And we are a force that shapes others as well. Let’s lead with love in all of our interactions. Let’s be aware of what we’re doing and how we are impacting the people we come into contact with each day. Let’s love to change people for good, and because they knew us, for better. Because in the end all that matters is how we love people…let’s love them well.

Where She Go?

~ Kai Raines ~ Leave a comment

When our soon to be 13-year-old grandson, Anthony, was a toddler, and he couldn’t find something, he’d say, “Where she go?” It was funny and adorable and not usually about a person…just something missing. He’d put his arms out with his palms up and turn his head side to side, and look around quizzically as he said, “Where she go?” I’m not sure why it was all “she.” It might have been as simple as him having a lot of women in his life. His two grandmas took care of him every day, and he had two other grandmothers, as well as, two sisters, and of course his mom. There were a lot of “she” in his life.

Yesterday I was sending out letters telling banks and creditors that my mom died. I was looking at the death certificates for both of my parents and I felt panic…where she go? How can she be gone? It’s the panic a child feels when they wander away from their mom in a store and when they turn around, they don’t see her. Where she go? Where the fuck are my parents asks the lost child and the panicked adult? Now I’m not wondering if they’re in heaven or hell…I don’t actually believe in either. I mean how could they possibly have death certificates? Only dead people have those. Why can’t I find her? She’s definitely missing. 

I packed up my mom’s clothes and have them loaded up for a donation today. All that’s left is pictures and memories. I just typed that sentence and remembered Jim Croce had a song in the 70’s called “Photographs and Memories.” My sister always said I liked sad music. She might be right…I did like his music…and it is kind of sad. Pictures and memories are what I have left of my parents. They are what remains for me to remember them. It doesn’t feel like enough…at least not today.

I feel untethered. Set adrift to…I have no fucking idea where. That feels a little risky…not knowing where I’m going. I’m 63 years old. I have plans and goals. I have a family. We moved to Florida to retire. I know where I’m going. I don’t know where I’m going with my parents…or my mom. There were years that I did not see my parents or talk to them, from 50 to 61, although I’m not sure why. I’m sure they had their reasons; I just don’t know what they were. I guess it doesn’t matter now. It seems that feeling untethered is a familiar feeling after all.

There were other times my parents and I didn’t communicate for a period of years, but the 50 to 61 period started on my 50th birthday. My mom remembered birthdays and she always called. Sometimes she’d send a card, but she always called…but on that day she didn’t call. No call and no card…I was in trouble. Why? No clue. I called my mom a week or two later, but she didn’t answer and didn’t return my call. That went on for several weeks…calling, no answer, leaving a message, no return call. And then I stopped calling. All I was doing was hurting myself by hoping she’d answer the phone…but she never did. And I quit trying. 

Maybe I should have persisted with my calls. I don’t know. I didn’t want to beg to be their daughter…and that’s how it felt. Like when your child comes up to you, usually while you’re on the phone, and pokes you repeatedly in the leg saying, “Mom! Mom! Mom!” Because all urgent matters take place while you’re on the phone. All my unanswered calls felt like me jumping around and poking her leg, and still getting nothing from her. I felt unwanted, or worse…like I didn’t exist. That’s when I felt like an orphan. From 50 to 61 I was an orphan. I was an abandoned child…although not exactly a child…not understanding where my parents went. They disappeared from my life.

For a long time, I thought there must really be something wrong with me because my own mom didn’t want me…didn’t love me. I felt like I must be defective somehow. Living on the island of misfit toys, or misfit daughters. What was so wrong with me that she didn’t want me? 

The difficulty with my mom was that I never knew where I stood with her. I would think things were fine and then she’d be mad at me and stop answering my calls. So, I’d call and call and call until finally she would answer the phone. She’d be cold as I ice, and I’d have to apologize and apologize some more until she’d finally let it go…but it was never gone. My mom remembered every detail of every time someone hurt her. She was easily angered or offended. And she kept score. The difficulty was I frequently didn’t know what I had done wrong. So, my mom would be mad until she wasn’t and then expect everything to go back to normal. If she was okay about something, I was expected to be okay too. Her feelings ruled.

The crazy thing in all of this is that if she had just told me that there was problem, we could have talked about it and hopefully resolved whatever the issue was. Instead, I tried to figure it out and when I couldn’t I stopped trying. It took me many years and lots of dollars in therapy to reach a place where I could see that I was not the cause of all of the problems in her life. She was the only one who could have changed anything…and she didn’t. I don’t know if she didn’t want to or if she didn’t know how…maybe she didn’t care enough to try. I don’t know and I’ll never know.

Now, let’s be real…what is my fucking point? I wish I knew. I still feel shocked that both of my parents are gone. All the years that I didn’t see them, I felt rejected. Like I didn’t matter enough for them to try. Try to see me or talk to me and tell me what was on their mind. Sometimes what I think I missed most about my parents during my 50’s was the “idea” of them. Perhaps more accurately, the “ideal” of them. Maybe that’s what I miss now too. The ideal of a mom…where she would love me just for being me. I felt the most loved when I graduated from law school. They both liked that for sure. I wanted to be loved just for being their daughter, not for an achievement. 

It’s easy to look back and question or wonder…second guess myself and my parents. I’m not sure how helpful that is. I don’t need to analyze my mom as much as I need to understand myself in relationship to her. Who was I with her and who am I without her? What habits or patterns did I develop in reaction to her? I frequently felt the need to protect myself when I was with her. How did that impact my relationship with her? How did it affect my relationships with other people? Does it still affect them? It all feels confusing right now. There’s a mountain of feelings and experiences to sort through. 

What I do know is that I can always love better. I’m guessing that my parents were hurt and I’m not sure how well I responded with love. And love isn’t all kisses and butterflies…it’s having hard conversations and being completely honest. It’s seriously clearing the air. Not allowing a lifetime of grievances to stack up so that even small things become a bigger deal than they need to be. 

What I know is that I tried. I did my best. I’m guessing they did too. What I’m left pondering is how I could have loved better? How could I have loved more honestly? More authentically and with more vulnerability? How could I have loved with less judgment? How can I stay grounded so that I can be my best most loving self all the time? 

I am grateful for the last couple weeks with my mom. While she was happy and relaxed, we loved each other. I know she loved me the best she could, and I loved her too. She knew I loved her. And in the end, all that matters is how we love people. So, we need to get busy loving people. Because love wins…every time.