August 31, 2015

attic suitcases
still singing their travel songs
despite the dust


August 30, 2015

the year I planted
hundreds of tulip bulbs
and waited quietly


August 29, 2015

moonlit bike ride
we see the curve just in time
to follow it


August 28, 2015

August 27, 2015

August 26, 2015

August 25, 2015

August 24, 2015

August 23, 2015

old hurricane
the town still tied together
at the waterline


Also? This happened:




August 22, 2015

home from camp
and a little bigger, now
than the space he left


August 21, 2015

small white butterfly
in the lavender again
comforts of home


August 20, 2015

museum day trip
our boy tells his friend
about the subway rat


August 19, 2015

a box of birthdays
we turn over old photos
hungry for names

(for MKR)

August 18, 2015

mid-August heat wave
everyone looks for a tree
to stand under


August 17, 2015

August 16, 2015

late summer
we decide to stop mowing,
let the deer make trails


August 15, 2015

every bloom, it seems
has its own bumblebee
mid-August garden


August 14, 2015

tickle on my leg
I resist the urge to slap,
make myself look first


August 13, 2015

August 12, 2015

the tune I whistle
without even knowing it
thoughts of you


August 11, 2015

early fireflies,
mothers calling children home
twilight on our street


August 10, 2015

August 08, 2015

August 07, 2015

Something Wild Inside My Head

Something wild happened inside my head today.

I spent the morning with my parents at Pennswood Village, a seriously well-appointed Quaker retirement community that was one of the stops on their "NOW where should we live?" tour.

We had a great visit, and on my drive to work (I'd told my office that I'd be in for the latter part of the day), I started thinking about what it would be like if we were to live at Pennswood Village when the time came to downsize and simplify. I let that daydream roll on for a while as I drove up Route 1 and cut over to 27, soaking up sun and rooting for the traffic lights to turn green so that I could just keep rolling.

When I got back to my office, still thinking about retirement choices, I remembered a conversation I'd been privy to, not so many years ago, about how maddeningly wrong it was that some retirement communities - even some of the Quaker ones - would charge gay and lesbian couples the higher "singles living together" rates rather than the more affordable "married living together" rates. Was Pennswood one of those places? I think it was maybe Stapeley, up in Germantown? I haven't lived in Pennsylvania for almost 20 years now, and retirement is still a distant dream, so I'd never gotten the full update on which places had which policies. 

Then I went through a familiar chain of thoughts... should I have asked someone at Pennswood about their policies towards LGBT retirees while I was there and had the chance? Or would that have been a "this is neither the time nor the place" situation, since it was my (cis & straight) parents who were researching their options? Should the possibility of someone else's discomfort ever be enough to silence me? Might there be times when I just need to be "off duty" as a social justice activist?

And then, maybe two hours after I'd left Pennswood, I suddenly thought, "Wait. Wait. Wait a minute! None of this matters anymore. Marriage is marriage now. That whole "find out if their fee structure acknowledges the reality of your relationship" thing is a thing of the past."

!!

When I told my now-spouse this story, she, too, had the "marriage is marriage now" epiphany only when I got to that part of the story.

And THIS, my friends, is what spending our entire adult lives living out identities which are actively discriminated against has done to our imaginations. We're flinchy. We've got our guard up. We prepare for battle. We forget.

Now, on this issue at least, we get to experience a rush of remembrance, and feel our arms drop slowly to our sides.

I want so badly for all victims of discrimination to someday have this experience of watching at least some of the scaffolding that held up prejudice get pushed off the edge of a cliff. 

It's a long fall, and a pretty satisfying sound when it cracks wide open. 

Marriage will still be many things to many people, but it will never be used as a weapon against me. Not now. Not anymore. Never again.
the turn of the tide
halfway through sleepaway camp
we want him back


August 06, 2015

August 05, 2015

burning my tongue
the third morning in a row
your tea is better


August 04, 2015

from scary to cool
our teen crosses over to
relishing thunder


August 03, 2015

at the creek’s edge
where the willow leaves
touch the water


August 02, 2015

August 01, 2015

unhooking my necklace
I feel time circle back
her hands there first