I'm back from the wilds of California (and many driving hours and $$$ gas money) to spend time with my family, well, parts of my family. My grandson is lovely and wonderful and my heart bursts with pride to spend time with him. He's polite and funny and nice to everyone. His girlfriend came (wearing braces) and they are traveling to Greece with her family this summer and then they have agreed to part ways as love interests because they want to explore others and themselves. What teenagers are so deliberate and thoughtful? He even asked if I minded that he drank a beer??? I reminded him of my family hx of alcoholism and the evils of alcohol in general. But I was so impressed that he ASKED ME. Of course he can have a beer, dearest boy. There were more adults around than kids and we were in the middle of nowhere. He's a sensible guy and I can't explain how much I love him.
My old girlfriend came too. Last minute she called and we arranged for her to fly to Sacramento where I would pick her up...it was wild, added miles and time to my drive but I didn't mind. We'll see each other again in October...and December...and February. Be still, my heart. We talked endlessly and laughed and held each other and kissed. At our ages, honestly. Her kisses still make my toes curl. And that's all we did.
I have been reflecting on all of this rekindling and I have realized some things.
My mindfulness and meditation practice is affected by some excitement and distraction. I'm noticing and tending to these feelings with curiosity and tenderness.
When I came out many years ago, she was the first person I fell deeply in love with. Deeply. In. Love. We had so much to work on and over the years, we have. She's still the same and she's totally different. Just like me. I have released her over and over, with anger, resignation, sorrow, all the ways.
Now I have no expectations. We may visit each other 4-5 times a year and live on opposite sides of the country. Maybe we'll live together again one day. I don't know. Before, everything felt so important, so imperative. Now, I'm ok alone and I'm ok with her. Both ways are satisfying and peaceful.
Back in Seattle, one of the midwives has covid (natch), so I'm on call today, tomorrow and Saturday. I really hope I can go to Pride on Sunday. This year feels so important to show up.
Before our rights are taken away. When I think of my beloveds who are queer and trans and non-binary, I feel so much sadness and fear. Losing Roe, what's next. So I will go downtown and cheer and yell for all the drag queens and muscle boys and marching bands and dykes on bikes and all of us in our variety and glory. I will remember the ones we lost along the way; to AIDS and hate crimes, addiction and suicides.
Living with this undefended heart is so hard-to just let the pain and sorrow in, to feel it, to tend to it, without hatred and anger.
I will be there for Tommy and James and Jim and Crazy Thunder and Clark and Paul and Chase and Richard and Kenny and Alison and Hazel and Micha and Diane and Robin and Gina and Michi and Holly and Judith and Hazel and Raven and so many others, for all of us who came out.