San Francisco Dreamin'

She's a Longaberger Lady (Gasp!)

2007-12-12T18:01:00.000-08:00

When I met JB those many, many (many) years ago, she was the finest of the fine dykes I had ever known. She had a masculine quality about her that I loved, while a very feminine part lie just under the surface. She would always deny that it (the femm) was there - but, really, it was there for all to see. Everyone saw it. Everyone, that is, except JB. Blinded by the light, I guess, and a quality I could never help but to love about her.

At that time (we're talking mid-seventies here), she was trim and fit, and even talked about building up her physique to be more like a football player. Personally, I couldn't really see that on her, but it was a self-image thing she had. To me she was eye candy, with only one drawback - she was not an experienced lover. Well, she is two years younger than me, so I let her off the hook about that. Experience definitely helped. And, boy howdy*, we sure did stack up the experience markers in those days. She has always been very sweet and very thoughtful, but I never could see her in the way she saw herself - butch and only butch.

Time marched on, our lives took different directions. Then, in the early 90's we got back together for good. We had both changed a lot over the years. We had mellowed, I guess you could say.

Except, JB asked me what I would think about having children? Well, I said, I didn't have any desire at all to have children, but I didn't have any objection to raising children. So, it came to be that JB is the bio-mom of both our girls. This has put her into the family mainstream, as it were. Being the stay-at-home-mom (SAHM) means that she has dealt with schools, families, moms, some dads, children on a daily basis, ad infinitum. Since we're both out in our community, she and the girls have integrated very well from the start. Integrated so well that she is often invited to our Mom-Friends' little gatherings and get-togethers.

I know that for a time last spring it was kind of getting her down being around het moms so much. Sometimes she doesn't feel as if she fits in, although by all accounts she fits in very well. But, I think that she might feel just a bit lonely now and then. While I am often invited to these gatherings, I must admit that I rather be out in the garage or game room with the guys. It's an odd world in which we live...

At any rate, she surprised me several weeks ago when she went to a Longaberger party. Not only did she go, but we know none of these people, although she is acquainted with them, and she has not known them on a level where they know us. Ya know?

As it turns out, she surprised me even more when she decided to give a Longaberger party, and invited many of our mom-friends to it. So, I guess there was cross-over there. If you like their products, I suppose I could get you in touch with her. Just let me know...

Just the same, I don't know this woman.

I mean - Who is inhabiting my wife's body, and what have you done with her?

* Thanks to Maria for this phrase. I am quite taken with it!

Wordless Wednesday

2007-12-12T07:06:00.001-08:00

It's a Date in the Making

2007-12-11T18:48:00.000-08:00

Update: We decided to meet at their house for lunch at noon. Then we'll head to Yerba Buena in downtown SF where there is ice skating, Zeum (where kids can make music and claymation videos and other cool stuff), bowling, movies, big slides, and more. So, we should not lack for activity. Two boys and two girls - and 4 Moms. Wow, it ought to be fun at best, and diverting, at the worst!

Patois, you offered up the idea of going to the California Academy of Sciences. I sure do wish the new Academy was open, but it won't be for nearly another year. That, and the Steinhart Aquarium. They do have an alternate location, but we have been to the original location before the renovations began, so we want to wait for the Big Opening. That will really be exciting. Do check out their web pages. Wow. An over-whelming improvement over the originals. As Maria would say, "Boy Howdy!"

Lori thought the Exploratorium might be good. We've been there a lot of times over the years. I think the physical activity of skating will be so much more fun and engaging this time around. I liked it, but the girls are like,

"Again?" ;-)

So, if you're going to San Francisco, be sure to wear a flower in your hair, and look for us on the Ice!

What To Do on a First Date?

2007-12-10T17:49:00.001-08:00

Continuing the saga and search for half-siblings... So, yes, we're trying to get together with the Moms of the girls' half-brother.

(Wow, does that sentence ever seem tortured. Could you write it any better? Please? I think the available terminology sucks, don't you?)

Last week we had settled on them coming out to our house in the suburbs. They live in the city of San Francisco. I know it would be a step down for them, but I am sure it would have been good for them as well. Then, this weekend, I asked JB,

"Hey, did you by any chance ask if anyone in their family is allergic to kitties or bunnies?"

Well, I would venture that you could answer that question yourself. One mom is allergic to both kitties and bunnies. So, a visit to our home is out of the question - at least this time of year. In warmer months, we usually entertain outside.

So we lobbed the ball back into their court - their response was that there is the Silliman Family Aquatic Center near Fremont - perhaps there? Well, it sounded good. Alas, the center closed today until Dec 19th - for maintenance we surmise. Darn! That would have been a lot of fun.

So, we're back to Square Two (since Square One was just finding a date that would work for all of us).

I wonder what will happen next...

What No One Tells You About Marriage Vol. 2

2007-12-08T16:27:00.000-08:00

(Note: If you click the title of this post it will take you Maria's post of the same title - something that gives me food for thought today. - Thanks, Maria!)

I am not really a very kind person. I am an okay person. I am not a bad person, nor am I really a mean person. I do kind things occasionally, but mostly I just stay within myself. No matter what.

For some reason JB loves me no matter what. She is the definition of love. She is a very kind woman who gives a lot of herself. She wants the best for others, at the expense of herself. Sometimes I think she is crazy, and if she feels depressed at times, it is because she does not take care of herself. She takes care of everyone else. And, I love her maddeningly, totally and completely.

I think that our marriage is the embodiment of opposites attract. It's not always a pretty sight when these opposites collide, I can tell you that. I am sure that we have both questioned why we ever got together. But, I don't think we will ever be apart, either. We've known each other since the mid 70's, were together briefly, then circumstances sent us down different paths, and we have been together now, for good, since 1993.

We don't really argue much. She's very passive, and I can be aggressive; mostly passive-aggressive. I don't think we have been able to nip some of the on-going problems in the bud because neither one of us wants to go there. After reading Maria's post, I can see that we are not alone in this - even among therapists!

What I do know is that I am so very lucky to have her steadfast love. I would be a shadow of a woman with out it, grasping for that I cannot reach. I don't know why she loves me like she does.

I just know that this is the kind of love you do not take for granted, you do nothing to harm it, you hold it close and keep the flame, and hope that you will always deserve it.

An Ordinary Mall in Omaha

2007-12-07T14:07:00.000-08:00

We've been to Omaha - passing through, visiting friends. People there seem, oh I don't know, very mid-western. I mean, they go about their lives and their business with little pretense or airs. Like anyone in these United States, they are fun loving, heartful people who I would be proud to call a friend.

Two days ago a troubled young man took an assault rifle, and, for reasons known only to himself, he took the lives of (at least) eight people he did not know. Pre-meditated. People who were just going about their business, planning a wedding, wrapping presents, helping customers. People who got up that morning who had no idea that that day would be their last because of a troubled young man who had given no heart to the ripples of his cruelty he would inflict on the families and friends of those whose lives he claimed.

This kind of reality brings to mind the old compilation of Grimm's Fairy Tales. It is no stretch to think that the stories were based on facts. In the middle ages, I cannot help but wonder how much cruelty was inflicted that eventually resulted in stories to scare children into respecting the known and unknown people. At least it made sense.

The killing of people for no reason at all is so senseless as to be unfathomable. I cannot imagine being a family member or friend of one of those killed or injured. It is a bottomless pit of sadness to bear.

My heart goes out to them.

We hug a little longer, we hold a little closer. We are a little more wary.

She's Been Absent Without Leave

2007-12-06T19:20:00.000-08:00

Life has a funny way of changing on a dime. This time of year - from October through the end of January - is a time of birthdays, holidays, parties, pot-lucks, travel, and more holidays. Something had to give. You can guess what that was - yeah, and you'd be right - Blogging.

Recently, I was over on Logo's AfterEllen website where I made a comment on one of the vlogs, and then followed up a link to a wonderful blog in Belgium, Lula Bites. After that I decided it is very far past time that I need to be blogging again - I've neglected this blog way too long. Not a good thing.

Especially since I have news.

Do you recall my Sibling Update post? Well, we've exchanged many emails with the two moms who are lawyers, who have a son that is a half-sibling to both of our girls. Finally both families' schedules are such that we will finally be meeting next Saturday! Our talk with the girls went better than we had hoped, which I attribute to our wonderfulness as parents. ;-) Actually, they took it all in quite well, asked some topical questions about the donor, their half-siblings and about their families.

It will be interesting meeting their brother. Our family-lives couldn't be more different. They live in the City. They are Jewish (No big deal, I am part Jewish myself - blood, not religion.) His parents are both active in the GLBT community in San Francisco. By contrast, we live in the suburbs, we're not Jewish, the girls were baptised Lutheran, but we are not religious. We haven't been involved with the GLBT community since just after the birth of our elder daughter - instead we've melded with a 98% het society.

Oddly, we haven't spoken to them on the phone, yet. I would like to talk to them, so I am going to call their office tomorrow some time. Just to say, "Hey." I mean, it feels kind of rude not to talk at least once before we meet.

I am looking forward to this. And I am not. The uncertainty is killing me.

Oh, and Indiana Mom has not contacted me since I told her about our family. Don't know if that is coincidental, or not, some day we'll have to pick up that thread again.

Fly Like a Bird

2007-10-04T17:14:00.000-07:00

I recently found an old friend on the Internet. Adrian and I had lost touch over ten years ago. Relationships change, we lived in different states. I was single, then I wasn't, then I was again - for a while. It was way back when... I knew her when she first came out - because I was her first. It was so much fun - what with the stomach butterflies and the constant sex. But, it wouldn't last. It couldn't, really. We were off in different directions - the big wonderful world offered us choices, and ours were each different.

Last time I saw her was back in the early 90's. I think it was in Fremont. Somehow we had hooked up - I was working for a Big Tech Company in the valley, she was working for Novell. I don't remember the details.

My roomie and I spent an awkward afternoon at the condo she shared with her then-partner (who was going to a culinary school). After that, the only time I heard of her again was through a mutual friend living in New York. Some friendships are like that, I think. Somewhere on the pole, but not very high up. You know? That was okay. We had good memories.

Then, recently, I was googling something about service for PC's, or some such thing, and her name came up in the list. I blinked.

Could there be more than one?

(Her name is rather asynchronous - I do not think there is another like it to this day.) I had to sign up to some techie site to send her an email - only 250 characters! - because her email address was protected. A few days later, I heard back from her.

She is living up in Wyoming with the love of her life, three horses and a dog and two cats. So, we started up a new friendship, me sharing with her about my partner, my girls; she has been sharing with me about her life on the ranch.

We have good memories, and we can both look back and smile. It makes me feel as if I can fly like a bird knowing that good things happen to good people.

Where We Are Now

2007-10-03T16:01:00.000-07:00

It has been a very busy week. And this would be an understatement.

In my last post I mentioned that one of the names listed by Indiana Mom was that of a lawyer in San Francisco. We looked her up, and sent her an email. The next day we had a very nice reply, complete with a lot of information about her son. Her partner emailed us a couple hours later with a very nice message and pictures of her son. I don't really see much resemblance between our daughters and their son, but I do between Indiana Mom's daughter and the boy. We replied with some pictures of the girls which showed off their eyes and their smiles. This was yesterday.

So. Now. What?

I found JB in the kitchen last evening when I came home from work. As she was preparing the meal she turned to me.

"Well, we need to talk to the girls about all of this. We could start with something like, 'Do you have any questions for us about the donor?'"

No words were more truly spoken. I gave her my look.

"Yeah, and I can hear them now - 'Nope. Going outside to play now. See ya Mom!' - Yeah, that will work real good."

Her pensive look told me that truth had been spoken. She mulled it around for a bit, then she had another idea.

"Well, we could just open up a discussion about it saying that it's been a while since we talked about these things, and we were wondering if they had ever thought about the possibility of half-siblings?"

I allowed as how that might open up their eyes a bit. One good thing about bringing it up this way is that I have a half-brother (my mother's first born son). So the notion of a half-sibling isn't new to them. I said,

"That could work - and let's not forget my sister! As they know, her existence didn't come to light until a couple of years ago. They're already familiar with family closets and the skeletons that fall out!"

Yes, you read that right. Not only do I have a half-brother (Elton: eleven years older than me) and a full brother (Malcolm: ten years older) but only recently has a full sister come to light (Robin). She was able to get her adoption records opened up, and then she found her birth family (this is wild fodder for yet another series of posts). She is 8 years older than me. Which means she is between Malcolm and me. See? Fodder galore!

But, I digress. My apologies to you, my humble reader.

This weekend we intend to take this to the next level, as it were. To discuss, ad nauseum, anything and everything about donors, their sperm, their off-spring, and all the permutations thereof. We will get to some sense of comfy for all of us.

Okay, now - discuss. I want to hear your thoughts, ideas and questions.

Sibling Update - Not Scared Any Longer

2007-09-30T17:38:00.000-07:00

Heather from The Wishful Writer comments that she and her partner are getting serious about having kids. Fabulous! (See her comment on my last post.) It was important to us to have a "known donor" as well. But, you know, when you first make the decision, and you're trying to Just.Get.Pregnant, the idea of ever meeting the donor is worlds away. Even so, I have sometimes wondered if we would even "run into" a sibling some day - since we knew there would be a maximum of 10 births possible. But, back then, it was so far into the future of possibilities it didn't seem quite real.

Then a decade passes, and someone on the Great Internet tilted the table a bit by providing a Donor Sibling Registry. All of a sudden, all bets are off. And by mutual agreement we are enabled to get to know half-siblings and their parents. I wonder if the donor looks at the registry... Perhaps he views all this with some trepidation. It will be a while before we know that - unless he reveals himself before the eldest child's eighteenth birthday.

So, back to the here and now.

It turns out that Indiana Mom who contacted us is a single Mom who wanted a child. After a couple email exchanges, we sent her a picture of the girls together taken one afternoon when we were on roadtrip. It is a fun picture, they were playfully hugging one another in the cold wind off the ocean. A few days later Indiana Mom sent us a picture of her daughter at 10 years old (she is 11 years old now). I'll call her "P," since I don't have their permission to expose their identies.

P had the same dark brown hair and bright blue eyes. She is a pretty girl, and JB thinks her eyes look very much like our Cait's (our older daughter's) eyes. I don't know about that. Maybe a little, but P is a bit on the "chunky" side, rather than on the very lean side as are Cait and her sister Zoe. Cait is four months older than P and is a tall beanpole (a term my brother used to call me when I was her age).

Indiana Mom also included a couple of email addresses of other parents. So, I was mulling this around in my head as I set the table for dinner. Then it dawned on me. I knew one of those names. It had stood out but I didn't know why at the time. It needed to roll around in my head until it finally came to me - it was the name of a fairly well-known lawyer in lesbian circles in San Francisco who handles second parent adoptions and tenant disputes. So. She has a son by the same donor.

"JB, look! I recognize this name. She is a lawyer who has published papers on gay and lesbian adoptions."

JB looked at me with a sort of quizzed expression, "But, you've already adopted the girls. Why do we need to see a lawyer?"

Okay, so sometimes we're not always on the same train of thought - not even on the same track. I put out the salt and pepper and explained,

"No, no, no. She's one of the names that Indiana Mom sent us - she has a son by the same donor we used! Don't you see - she and her partner are here and accessible!"

I could see the lightbulb click "on" over her head.

"Oh! Oh. Hmmm. We gotta think more about that. That makes it all that much more real doesn't it? I mean, it's not just some possibility, it's more real."

Sure does.

As we both talk about this, getting used to the idea, it is getting easier to understand, to figure out going forward how we want to handle this hot potato.

(Well, sometimes that is what it feels like - a hot potato!)

We're going to start deliberately opening up the topic a little more than we usually do, a little at a time, to give the girls opportunities to ask questions. Although nearly two years younger, Zoe has been a lot more inquisitive about the donor than her older sister has ever been. I expect she'll be our guiding force.

Viva la familia!

Siblings - What to do...

2007-09-25T19:02:00.000-07:00

As I have said in an earlier post, (or maybe it was a comment I made elsewhere?) JB and I have two daughters. They were conceived via what is referred to as a "known donor." What this means is that when the girls are 18, the donor has agreed to meet them. They both have the same donor-father. You see we went through a reproductive service in San Francisco. We were presented with a list of prospective donors, and we chose one that best suited our likes and dislikes. Neither of us has ever seen a picture - not allowed. But woman we worked with did know the donor, and she said he had beautiful eyes and his ancestry matched mine, which was very nice since I wasn't to be the bio-mom.

The girls have been everything we had hoped and dreamed about. They are each sweet and wonderful kids, and we are proud to be their mothers.

Fast forward about a decade... to a couple of months ago, while JB was sleeping, I was watching flipping through the TV channels. She was lying next me in bed, peacefully snoring away (as usual - heh). I stopped on channel 3 because they were teasing the next story - something about a donor siblings. It was NBC Dateline. They were doing a story about a young man, Ryan Kramer, who wanted to find out about his own donor and if he had any siblings. He is a very bright kid and he put together a website called the Donor Sibling Registry.

The possibilities came raining down on me. Our donor could have up to 10 pregnancies - is it possible that we could actually find out about the girls' half-siblings? How would the girls feel about that? We haven't yet explained to them about meeting the other half of their DNA. We haven't even thought about their half-siblings.

As soon as the show was over I went to my computer and looked up the registry. I looked up our donor, and I was astounded to find that other parents had listed the off-spring of the same donor that we used. There were five siblings already posted. Oh. My. Gawd.

In order to see the messages posted by the parents, I had to subscribe for a year. The next day JB and I discussed it, and we decided to go ahead and post the birth month and years of our daughters, and a little message about them. It was a big step for us. We took it with a bit of trepidation, but I am not quite sure why?

Fast forward again to today. This morning when I checked my email there was a message from one of the mothers of an eleven year old girl in Indiana. She says that she has exchanged email and information with other half-sibling parents. She wanted to know if we wanted to do the same? Again, should we take the next step? Is it time? Are we ready? We talked about it.

And we talked.

We decided it was time to take a small step forward and share information in hopes of finding our way with the other parents. I think it could make the road a little less lonely, if not for us, then maybe for the kids.

I'm still a little scared, but I don't know why...

The Long Cold Shadow

2007-09-21T02:50:00.000-07:00

We have been a very lucky family - so far. Cancer has not found its way to the vast majority of us living today. One notable exception might be one sister-in-law who has been (and still is) treated for a brain tumor. She is in her mid-sixties and her cancer is in remission. We are so very thankful.

A good friend and co-worker's family has not been so lucky. Two years ago his wife was having problems swallowing. The family was getting ready to take their yearly June vacation up north and she thought she'd better go to have it checked out by the doctor. X-rays and scans detected the devastating tendrils of a cancer seeking her vocal chords. I remember talking to Joe about it. We were in his office shooting the breeze about this and that. Neither of us talks much about our personal lives outside of bragging rights about our kids. We have mutual friends, but Joe and I don't socialize. Different circles, and all that. But, I like Joe a lot. He's one of the Good Guys. So, I stepped over the boundary separating work and home and asked,

"Hey Joe. How is your wife doing?"

He looked at me for a moment. His look was tinged with a small bit of sadness, wariness, and a measure of grace.

"Well, we've got a date for surgery. The doctors say it will be tricky, but they think they can get most, if not all of the cancer. It's twining itself around Joan's vocal chords. The worst of it is that they don't know if she'll be able to talk after all is said and done."

Fast forward a bit. Joan's voice did come back, if a bit raspy and without a lot of volume. By Christmas things were looking up. Maybe the surgeon did get it all. He said he couldn't be sure. There might be some bits left behind, because of the vocal chords he couldn't cut everything away without paralyzing them.

You know that's not the end of the story, right?

So then, earlier this year, the cancer reared its head anew. This time its tendrils were wending their way into her chest. By late spring, Joan couldn't walk fifty feet without stopping to rest. I asked Joe why that was?

"The cancer has started wrapping itself around her aorta."

I stared at him in disbelief. How can that be? The surgeon wasn't able to get all of the cancer, and it had started growing again. Kaiser sent them to a cancer treatment center about 40 miles from here. They had never seen this kind of cancer and wouldn't even attempt to treat her. Next, they tried UC San Francisco. Chemo-therapy and radiation were on the menu - but it was difficult find a good combination. Thankfully, Joan improved with each treatment. She could walk around the block, play with the kids, cook and sometimes even drive them to school. In short, she had her life back again.

Joe and I were working again together one afternoon early last week. We had been working through an engrossing problem. Finally, as we relaxed and chatted a bit, I realized it was late afternoon and his calendar had said that he would be away that afternoon. He has been taking Joan to UCSF every two weeks for treatment - this was supposed to the day they went back into the City. So I asked him what was up?

"We were supposed to go to UCSF today, but there was no point. They said the treatment is no longer working. It's growing again."

Their struggles continue. I am reminded of that saying, "There but for the grace of God goes I." I cannot imagine what it must be like to being in the great shadow of death. On the one hand, it is a gift of sorts. You can choose to live with meaning and purposefulness - but you live knowing you may not see your children grow into adults. You cannot live fully for the pain and weakness. Chilling.

Cancer casts a long, cold shadow.

This Marriage Thing

2007-09-20T15:51:00.000-07:00

I never really wanted to be married. Marriage always meant boundaries and financial responsibilities. I never even wanted kids. Not in my deck of cards, I thought.

So, it has always been with some small measure of ambivalence that I view the efforts by the gay community to gain marriage rights. This is not to say that I think that the effort is misguided. Not in the least. The right to marry is actually the the achievement of legal standing to co-mingle ones rights with that of one other person. In this country, it is the legal mingling of a male and a female rights to act as one entity - as a married couple. I want that for myself and my partner and our children. We do not have it. Instead we have reams of paper, powers of attorney, etc., attempting to find some level playing field with one marriage license.

No, I am certainly not opposed equality in marriage rights for gays and lesbians. I am proud to stand up for it as an institution for all, and I am proud that so many others are taking a stand as well.

It is just the personal side of the marriage thing that keeps coming back to me. Many years ago my proposal of marriage to JB was accepted.

I still don't know what I was thinking.

It must have been some damned romantic surge inside of me that goaded the question out into the open. I was possessed. Where did that come from? I wondered. Well, I was hopelessly in love, for one thing. Love, of course, has been known to addle the brain.

I am still hopelessly in love with my JB. And, I have never regretted being ~~married~~ in a committed relationship - but I am reminded every day that we are not legally married. My paycheck reminds me. My last name reminds me. Filling out forms reminds me. Social Security reminds me - my own spouse cannot benefit from my social security. After all - our society won't allow it. Another reason why it is called "Social" Security?

It's a conundrum.

Catholic Folk Mass Redux

2007-09-19T21:10:00.000-07:00

I have been wondering what ever happened to Ann. She introduced me to the music of Joni Mitchell and Judy Collins, and yes, even John Denver. I was quite naive in 1972 - not like I am today. Then, I was young and fresh, a guitar slung on my back wherever I went. I'd earn a bit of money at the local coffeehouses singing folk tunes. I could sing much better than I could play, but then, it was a package deal.

Ann was a year older, and seemed so much wiser than me. She was catholic, and was active musically in the catholic church. On Sundays, the priest at St. Francis had the traditional 9 o'clock mass. But at 10 o'clock, they also allowed for the more popular folk mass. I'm not catholic, but I could sing, and sing well. But Ann could really play. Her fingers would work those guitar strings. Listening to her play was wonderful - as though the music was magic - it was entrancing. She had a talent that just couldn't be learned. It was her gift.

We spent nearly a year together, but I knew I just couldn't stay. Although I was 300 miles from home, I was still too close to my parents. And living in the closet with Ann was driving me crazy. Loving someone, but never acknowleging that deep, sweaty love was insanity. But in 1973, it seemed there were few choices. The economy sucked, so by then I had applied for a position with the postal service - woo-hoo. Now there was something to look forward to.

What to do? Stay in school? I had just completed a year of commercial photography school - it just wasn't what I had thought it would be, although I learned a lot. And, it has served me well to this day. Still...

I left home. I joined the Navy. Saw the world.

Often I wrote to Ann. Sometimes she'd write back. The letters finally stopped coming, she didn't answer mine any longer. It hurt, but I was distracted.

Life goes on.

Twenty years later I came across her parents' old phone number. I rang it and her mother answered.

"Hi, do you remember me?"

"Well, of course I do, hon. How are you?"

We talked a while, and I learned that Ann worked for a parish in Seattle. Her mom gave me her number there. Should I call her? What on earth would I say? Well, the truth is always good, I was thinking of her and thought we might re-connect as old friends. Simple as that. I dialed the number.

"Hello?"

"Hi! do you remember me?"

"Yes. How did you get my number?"

"I talked to your mom. She gave it to me. How have you been? Gosh, it's been a long time."

"I'm surprised she gave it to you."

"Surprised? Why?"

Silence.

"Ann, I just wanted to re-connect. You know, look up an old friend. That's all. Maybe we could get to know each other again."

"Why? Are you dying or something?"

"Uh, no. Well, it seems you're not interested in re-connecting."

Silence.

"Okay, I get it. That's really sad. Bye."

"Bye."

Talk about a cold-call. I think that was the chilliest call I'd ever had. Icicles. Nothing like the warm person I recall, but then we all change, I suppose. We had left our friendship on good terms, I had thought. Her coldness surprises and saddens me even now.

Fast forward to "today." So, the Pope dies. Brings to mind those small experiences with the catholic church, so many years ago. I go online and google Ann's name.

Look at those hits! It turns out she's a pastoral assistant of youth ministeries.

Ah, perhaps now things make more sense. She doesn't want anything to do with me because I could "out" her. How goche.

Sometimes old friends are just old.

There's a hole in my heart where a friend used to be.

Bringing Down the House

2007-09-18T07:23:00.000-07:00

Vignette in time. A memory, from a time so long ago.

A bottomless pit grew in my stomach as I gazed over the grey ocean below. As I stood at the edge of the cliff, ice plant and moss under my feet, all I could think about was the woman I had loved for a brief time. My stomach did flip-flops as I recalled the intimate moments we had together.

It would never happen again.

The turmoil of the ocean was mirrored in my gut. How could life bring me to such a high only to dash everything down onto the rocks? How could I love with my whole being and find that love would not be returned in kind?

What else could I do? The rocks below, at the foot of the cliff, well they could be no more painful than the ones I had already been thrown to. The whole idea seemed appealing at that moment. I couldn't trust myself. I had lost her. It just would never happen again. There is no golden touch. I was lost. I don't even know if I knew where I was at that moment.

"Hey, Tawanda! What are you doing out here?"

It was Lynn, a co-worker. I hadn't heard her come up on me. She stirred me out of myself and back into the moment.

"Oh, hey. I was just watching the ocean." I didn't really want to talk to her. But she lingered anyway.

"Well, you sure looked like you were ready to jump or something."

Was it that obvious? I had no clear thought that I wanted to do anything like that. My body language must have spoken more loudly than I could know.

"Nah. I was just thinking. Stuff. You know."

And with that short exchange, I felt somehow renewed. Ready to build again. How can that be?

It just was.

And I started to live once again.