You Were

You Were

You were a red-headed buzz saw and a wang dang doodle,

Another Steel Magnolia with an edge.

You sang like you were trained by Beverly Sills,

And then went home and trimmed the hedge.

You never took any crap from any pushy chap,

And you pushed the limit too.

You were an belle and a bully and a bit of a bitch,

But Sister, you were YOU.

You were the mighty oak that wouldn't bend,

And it hurt to see you break.

When the time had come to stop the fight,

You would never admit a mistake.

You never gave up on trying to will,

The world to go your way.

But that was all right. You chose your fight,

Sorry about these feet of clay.

I'll hear your voice in the music I play,

I'll see you in my dreams,

And I'll know your secret though you would protest.

Your heart was pure marshmallow cream.

I'm not quite ready to say goodbye,

You're still alive to me.

You're an important part, a piece of my heart,

And you WERE YOU. You'll always be.

Robin K. Westbrook (c) 5/20/2015

Susan was just about bald until she was around three. She was still cute. I am the one with hair.

Coming Full Circle

On the evening of the 8th of this month, I received a call I was both halfway expecting and dreading and hoping would not come this soon. My sister, Debby, called to tell me that our sister, Susan, pictured here in a photo taken quite a few years ago, had passed away, quietly, in her sleep. Younger than me by 14 months, she and I were close for quite a few years and then...then not. We grew in different directions and it was hard but I had to love her from a distance.

She had severe COPD and her heart was not able to withstand the strain and effort it took for her to draw every breath. I would check with our youngest sister or with my niece for updates on her condition and I did talk to her a couple of times. I also wrote her a letter trying to let her know that it was just the differences in our lives that had caused the distance. I certainly still loved her with all my heart. I still do. The love lives on. I miss her, There is a hole in our lives that will never be filled.

It was an experience, for sure, going back to the town I wanted to leave so badly 19 years ago. I was not cut out for a small, conservative, hyper-religious place like Spartanburg county or the little town, Drayton, where I grew up and learned hard lessons about life. I loved the hills, the lush, green woods and grass and the fireflies on summer nights. But the ugliness of bigotry and the arrogance of the "Miss Betty Lou Better-Than-You" religious folk threw a pall over all that.

Susan did what most of the kids did...she got tough. I didn't. My nick-name was "Cry-Baby." I can still feel the pain of little me, teased and tormented to the edge of my endurance with no one to understand, comfort or care. Even the bigger kids got in on the action. I never had it explained in a way that made sense to me. My youngest sister did her own thing and tried to stay out of the way of trouble but she got her share, as well. That's the mill hill for you. Susan was lovely, talented, athletic and a bit of a bully. NOBODY pushed her around. A middle child, she was book-ended by her favorite victims. We were cowed and handy. Because we were cowed, I suppose she didn't respect us. Hell, I didn't respect myself back then. I was so sure I was a changeling that would never belong. She really didn't want to hurt us. It was just important, for some reason, for her to be in control. Power over life and people was something she craved. She didn't accept weakness, feet of clay and never met a grudge she wasn't glad to carry. Forgiveness and the art of leaving the past in the past was not her strength. Yet, if anyone else ever gave us a hard time, she was on them like white on rice.

I am a member of a Facebook group of people from Drayton. I have been individually un-friended by most of them. They don't understand that they can just cut off notifications and not get any of my posts in their news feed and still be "friends." My son (also a liberal freethinker) and I are outcasts in our own home town. I find it funny that I can accept and appreciate people who are Christian and who are conservative, even if I do disagree with them. That definitely doesn't go both ways. There is something about an outspoken, liberal atheist that scares and angers a lot of these people. So I am, again, on the outside looking in because I don't care to be in the closet with either my politics or my free-thinking. I stopped hiding a long time ago. I spent too many years apologizing for who and what I am. No more.

I loved my sister dearly, warts and all. She was a rose who had her share of thorns. I'm sure the same can certainly be said about me. I was bowled over by a man who was alternately my boyfriend and my tormentor as a child when he, at the mortuary, came up to me and apologized for those childhood wrongs. I took that apology as my earned and merited due and accepted it and thanked him for it. I miss my home town, but I don't miss the narrow minds and the angry hearts that can't accept anything different from the rest. I can't even have a casual conversation about it with my youngest sister because she seems to fear that I am trying to impose my atheism on her. As much as I love her, I am denied being able to be myself even with her.

So here it is...I am as much an outsider now as I was then. My sister's passing has brought me full circle. I like who I am. I am a good and caring person. I don't need that old time religion and I will vote on the left for the rest of my life because I think it is the truly compassionate, egalitarian way to go. If you can't handle it, then click on "unfriend" because I am not going to shut up. I might, if I am able, move back up to the temperate zone just because I love the climate and the beauty of that area. I sure am glad I have a few friends who think along the same lines as me who live up there. I doubt that there will be a Welcome Home Party in Drayton. But my journey is my own and I like where it has led me. Really, you guys...I'm good.

I Has a Sad

Sometimes, even at my age, I find myself in the shoes of that sad little girl I was who didn't understand that "different" meant something bad to a lot of people. I have two friends from the Mill Village in South Carolina where I lived for most of my growing-up years. TWO. Most of the rest are merely civil or ignore me. In that hotbed of fundamentalist religion and strict, right-wing politics, I am not the most popular figure in the bunch.

The sad part about it is that many of the people are folks I like, folks I know have a good heart and want to do their best. I might question WHAT they believe and why they vote the way they do but I don't question their innate right to either.

I wasn't a very happy little girl. I was from a broken marriage and we were not well-to-do. Even on the mill hill, most of the kids had more than us, but we still had food, clothes and what we needed. I was old enough to remember when my father left and also young enough to feel rejected, abandoned and responsible. It was something I couldn't describe and my elders couldn't understand. I was just "over-emotional and moody."

When the kids on the hill found out that I cried easily, that was all it took. I became a target of cruel teasing, gossip and derision. I was never able to figure it out. I had friends that I really liked and I would find myself shunted aside, picked last and picked on. I didn't realize that the parents of those kids had a lot to do with it along with the fact that, to them, I was an exotic creature....a kid without a Dad who couldn't even say their father had died, honorably. My father was a pathological liar, a womanizer, a bigamist, and (*gasp) a Yankee! I went to the same church, I attended the same school but I was on the outside looking in all the time.

I guess I thought that, being all grown up now, even with grandchildren and great-grandchildren, that these childhood tormentors would be kinder, gentler and more tolerant. I thought wrong. They don't torment me. They don't call me names to my face. They just do not want to have anything to do with me. My politics and lack of religion are too foreign and scary and, in their eyes, just plain wrong. Then there is the fact that I make no bones about being a natural mother (birth mother) and do not apologize or feel ashamed for that...at least not now. When it was going on, I had enough shame for ten teenage girls.

So, though I have outgrown that need to be liked by everyone, and I have learned to respect and like myself...even though I no longer judge my insides by their outsides...every now and then, I think about some of those kids that I really liked and I realize that I Still Has A Sad.

Pseudoscience Didn't Work

13 months ago, in late November of 2013, my husband of 25 years was diagnosed with stage IV follicular Non-Hodgkins Lymphoma. It was found by our gastroenterologist during a routine colonoscopy. A small lesion had begun to form in his colon which was the earliest sign that the cancer was attempting to invade organs from the lymph system.

He had a bit of a painful bone marrow biopsy which let us know the disease had not invaded his skeletal system. Then we spent a long day down at the MD Anderson (now UF Orlando Health) Center in Orlando having tests after tests run. The entire time, my husband was convinced it was not a real thing..that it was a "false positive" until his results came back from the PET scan, MRI and blood work. His scan showed him lit up like a christmas tree with affected nodes in his neck, chest, armpit, abdomen and pelvis. He acknowledged the reality and we got to work. We were referred to a really great oncology group and Dr. Johnson and Dr. Sheikh began mapping out the battle plan.

In January, 2014, just 3 weeks before my husband was to begin chemo, I was rushed to the ER with acute pancreatitis. They told me that it was good I had come in because that condition could be life-threatening. I was put on an IV and given nothing to eat or drink for 3 days and then went into surgery to have my badly diseased gall bladder removed. My pancreas recovered. All I can remember is asking the doctors and nurses to please get me well so that I could be with my husband when he started his chemotherapy. I was lucky. When my husband walked into the infusion center at South Seminole hospital, I was right there with him.

For 5 months, every 28 days, he had two days of chemo. His treatment was what is considered the gold standard for this particular type of NHL, two drugs, Rituxin and Bendamustine. As the drugs built up in his system, the side effects started to really show and he would have what they called a "chemo crash" about 2 to 3 days after his treatment. He took his nausea meds and slept a lot and ate lightly and took short walks and, the entire time, he kept at his part-time job as a crossing guard at a local elementary school. I started calling him "Superman." After two rounds of chemo, they did a CT scan that showed the disease over 80% wiped out and, after five rounds, he was completely clear. We were ecstatic.

I need to explain that we are atheists and skeptical thinkers. We didn't pray, We didn't go on any of the many weird and outlandish diets that we were told we must because of very different reasons by people whose evidence of the efficacy of said diets was only anecdotal or the result of some very incomplete and biased "studies." We went with a balanced diet, light exercise, adequate rest, keeping to a routine as much as possible and we investigated and approved of the science used. He was told he shouldn't eat meat. That didn't go down well with him. He is not a big over-eater but he likes his chicken, fish and occasional red meat, his beer and occasional glass of wine and his sweets. He doesn't smoke. I will say that he did have a little bit of "herbal" help with the side effects but everyone, doctors, scientists and lay-people, know THAT helps.

We had the last of his every 4 month CT scans, today and it was clear as a bell. So now, he will go to every 6 months and then to every year. Are we grateful? Hell yes, we are! We are grateful to the scientists who did the research, the oncologists and infusion nurses who followed that protocol and monitored his progress and the emotional support we received from family and friends. We could not have made it through without that.

But no, we don't thank an invisible deity, of whose existence we have no palpable evidence. We did not indulge in pseudoscience and don't think that "healing energy" exists unless that's another name for love. We DO believe in love. My husband is well-loved. Knowing one is loved has a lot to do with our attitude when facing illness and adversity and it helps. It isn't a cure, but it helps us bear the worst of the discomfort and the bad days that come with any chronic illness.

Today, I learned that a young girl, a child, died after refusing, with her parents' blessing, to continue chemotherapy for leukemia. Rather than admit that refusing the treatment caused this little girl's death, they are saying that she died of a stroke because her system was damaged by the chemo she had prior to her going on alternative and "spiritual" care. I don't buy that for an instant. She was encouraged to trust superstition and pseudoscience and it didn't work. I will be willing to bet that behind every wild claim of such methods actually working, there is a rational, scientific reason why a patient survived or improved that has nothing to do with wheat grass enemas, massive doses of supplements, laying on of hands, prayer or christian yoga (I wonder how that is different from regular yoga).

There are a lot of people who fight cancer who will not be as fortunate as we are. Research is ongoing and early detection is making a big difference. Genetic research is opening new avenues for possible treatments and cures. But, it won't make it in time for some. Some might have some hidden well of physical healing abilities within themselves that will come in to play and will be hailed as a "miracle." I am all for that. But I am sick and tired of prayers and pseudoscience being chosen over the real science, especially when I hear that a child has died from such foolishness.

Like a friend said, who is going through this awful battle with a loved one, "If prayers and wishes were money and marijuana, we'd be doing better than we are." And no, there is no proof that weed cures cancer. It just helps make chemo and the other symptoms bearable and helps the appetite along. When you have cancer and are taking chemo, eating is not easy. Marijuana makes that easier.

We are celebrating because we have the right to. My husband, with the help of science, beat the beast. But we are  not forgetting those still fighting and those who lost the battle. If you want to do something for these people, support cancer research. A few bucks to buy a pipette for a research lab goes a lot farther than prayer for actually doing something.

Dear Mr. President, An Open Letter

I hope today finds you in good health and good spirits. I really care about that. I feel that you have been gloriously dignified in the face of a lot of garbage that most presidents have not had to face. I voted for you both times, and am still glad I did. I also admire Mrs. Obama who is a lady to the core and that core seems to be solid steel.

I am a senior citizen on the cusp of 70. My husband is 75 and, just this past year, he fought and won a battle against Non-Hodgkins Lymphoma. The co-pays, even with our Medicare Advantage plan, were above and beyond our ability to pay and we had to appeal to the hospital to forgive the balance. That is one of the reasons I am writing this open letter.

The Republicans, now in charge of the congress, seem to have set their sights on our Social Security and Medicare...benefits we worked hard for and EARNED. For years, we have gone without proper COLAs and have had to pare down our lifestyles to the basics only. I don't know how much longer we can afford the Internet. We don't have a big nest egg because our 401K was pretty much wiped out during the Bush recession. We were basically blue-collar workers who didn't make a mint but we enjoyed a few tiny luxuries and a vacation here and there until the recession hit. Social Security, Medicare and the tiny amount my husband makes working 10 hours a week as a crossing guard for the county is all we have. I retired early on SS Disability and the Republicans are gunning for that in a big and very nasty way.

Oh, we have some equity in our home (we are still making a mortgage payment every month) and a few acres of land we were dreaming of retiring to in the mountains of West Virginia. That dream is dead and that land is not selling because that area is so economically depressed. We are stuck here, in crowded, hot Florida where the prices can be just a bit higher than other states. And Rick Scott (excuse me while I shudder) is our governor. No, I didn't vote for him. If the congress gets its way with their nefarious plans for what is one of the best things the government of this nation ever did, we will be out on the street. We have debts we are struggling to pay. We don't take vacations, these days.

Now I am reading your agenda at White House.com and reading articles on several online publications which state that protecting Social Security and Medicare is not a part of your plan or even one of your priorities. Mr. President, not all of us older Americans are curmudgeonly conservatives who vote GOP. I know that the Republican party has manipulated the less properly informed among us to vote against their own best interests, that their ignorance and racism have played into that, but that isn't us, Mr. President, and we are going to suffer. I don't think I will do well in a shelter or out on the sidewalk putting things in a stolen grocery cart. Please don't punish all of us for what some have done.

You have your veto pen. You can, at least, stall the raiding of OUR coffers. We earned our monthly pittance and, without it, we are toast. YOU CAN HELP. Please, Please, Mr. President. Don't forget us. Don't let it be open season on the elderly poor. Eighty years ago, longer than I have been alive, FDR signed Social Security into law. And for eighty years, the GOP has been trying to take it down.

Right now, seniors comprise approximately 12.9% of the US population. That's a lot of people, and a lot of these people are not doing well financially, due to either poor planning or unforeseen reversals in the economy or health crisis problems. Should we be kicked to the curb because of our age or bad decisions? I am not ready to die without medical care, in pain and in poverty. I still have a lot to contribute. If nothing more, I have an articulate voice for progressives and a left-leaning vote.

I can get by without a yearly vacation, a lot of new gadgets, or a new car every couple of years. Our old 2007 PT Cruiser is paid for and it runs. We are glad to have it. BUT I can't get by without food, shelter or healthcare and that is what the right wing is trying to take from us. It is OUR money. WE earned it. Reagan opened our purse and raiding SS funds has become a scandalously regular occurrence. Don't let it happen again. Rather than allowing more cuts, SS and Medicare should be expanded and improved. Coupon care is not going to work, either and that idea needs to go into the dumpster where it belongs.

It's very easy for elected officials to not think about the seniors when they are happily enjoying their large pay checks and their tax-payer supported health care. They don't have to worry about deciding between food and prescriptions and some of the co-pays on prescriptions, even with Medicare Part D, can be out of reach for many of us. Between the way this congress has treated women, minorities, poor children, the aging poor, and the environment they deserve some kind of trophy for being the most cruel, nay...malicious congress in US history. I am just asking that you don't add to the disillusionment I am already feeling. You CAN help if you just will.

Thank You,
Robin Westbrook

Giving Up

I wrote a blog, once, about the experience of mothers of adoption loss which got hundreds of hits a day. I even was in the top 5 blogs on the subject when they were doing that. Now, I get less than a whimper and a peep when I write about what concerns me most. I refuse to be a whore and go back to adoption.

This leads me to believe that, although many have praised my writing abilities, either they were prevaricating or I am dry as dust and no one wants to hear what I have to say. It has gone the same way on my FB page. Very few people follow me as opposed to when I was first active there.

OK, my time is over. Anyone who aspires to be a writer, even at my advanced age, knows that a writer is only as good as the size of their readership. I have had some nice people in Google Circles pass my blog URL around but I got a grand total of 14 hits, yesterday. What good is what I write if so few read it?

So I am not going to subject myself to any further disappointment. Bye, Y'All.

Karl Marx Got A Bum Rap

Contrary to the delusions of the educationally deprived citizens of this nation, Karl Marx (May 5, 1818 - March 14, 1883) was not the bringer of communism to the eastern Europeans and Russia. That was Lenin, I believe. According to Wikipedia, Marx was an economist, a philosopher, a sociologist, a writer and, yes, a socialist in the real sense of the word. His most famous quote, that is often taken out of context, is here, IN context; "Religious distress is at the same time the expression of real distress and the protest against real distress. Religion is the sigh of the oppressed creature, the heart of a heartless world, just as it is the spirit of a spiritless situation. It is the opium of the people. The abolition of religion as the illusory happiness of the people is required for their real happiness. The demand to give up the illusion about its condition is the demand to give up a condition which needs illusions."

The image that the word "socialism" brings to most people is Nazi fanaticism and Stalin-esque totalitarianism and cruelty. That's not the whole story and people would do themselves a favor to further investigate what socialism really is. There are a number of nations in Europe who have socialism heavily figured into their governmental structure and there is no repression of speech, opportunities or (unfortunately) religion. However, these nations tend to be more secular than most. Here in the US we have economic repression that boggles the mind of the First World nations and let's face it...we are on a greasy, downhill slide to Third World status. Socialism and atheism are dirty words to the true believers in god and the 'Murrican way. The current congress and their Billionaire Owners Club (BOC..my title and I like it) are spinning and using those words to keep the fear among their minions who vote according to the pulpit at a fever pitch...and they still don't know what they really mean.

Not all atheists are socialists and not all socialists are atheists. While I am not convinced this person ever really existed, the Jesus of the bible would have to be called a socialist in his views of our responsibility to the poor and suffering. I know political conservatives who are atheists. I happen to be both atheist and socialist. I am an atheist because I am a skeptic and require real evidence, not mythology. I am a socialist because I am tired of the poor being criminalized, the rich being made richer from our labors and because I like fairness and justice.,,,not exactly revolutionary values but it may come to that.

Right now, we have a bloc of voters who either stand to gain by siding with the fat cats or who cannot do their own thinking without someone behind a pulpit or a politician evoking the name of god. They are anywhere from smugly stubborn to dangerously fanatical. Christianity has become a monster as has Islam and any number of other beliefs. Perhaps Islam is the most dangerous, FOR THE MOMENT, because their call to violence against the non-believer and the "heretics" is most bloodily overt in their holy texts. But Christianity is catching up.

The world, and especially this nation, has a 2000-year (give or take a hundred years or so) habit. Some get their fix from church and some from texts and some from just refusing to question their own beliefs. But a fix it is..as real a fix as taking a needle to a vein and injecting the mind-altering poison, directly. A friend, Barry Groover, posted a chart that is a good representation of the drug-like effects of religion. It works for me.

I have a hope that we can see how caring for each other is not a bad thing and that a nation this size needs a strong central government with a genuine, legislative social conscience to balance out our technological advanced and thriving marketplace. Right now, without that social conscience, we are a table with three legs and are bound to fall. 

There is a group on Face Book called "Religion Poisons Everything." I was raised in the church. I am still detoxing after many years of struggling out from under the indoctrination I received as a child. I find much of worth on that group. I know what it did to me. I see what is does to others and I want to cry. Religion is being used to justify racism, violence towards women, minorities and the poor and to form an elite class. I shudder to think what will happen if this is allowed to continue with nary a challenge. That is where Charlie Hebdo was pointing us with their satire.

Face it folks. Supernatural solutions for secular problems don't work. In fact, they don't exist. I am a small voice in a big cacophony of noises. But more and more, voices of reason are trying to be heard above the din. The ones who come after us will have to be louder and stronger and more well-organized. I think they will be. I smell blood on the wind.

The Hard Truth

My husband thinks I am a talented writer. Other family members and friends think I am talented in this regard. I have been called "eloquent" and "articulate." I sometimes wonder if those are just words to use to avoid saying "glib." I am finding that I am not getting much in the way of readership and no comments to speak of...a couple of nice people have put themselves out there to make a comment, but I don't have near the audience I had when I was banging the keys, posting about adoption angst.

It seems my own personal growth has made me less interesting. I know that a writer needs an audience and I either don't know how to generate one or I don't post things people want to read. I may not be "edgy" enough or friends from the adoption arena may be angry that I have moved away from the center of that cauldron of perceived trauma.

I don't want my blog to just be a journal of my take on any subject. I want it to be thought-provoking. I want to be one of those writers whose essays are linked by many and passed around like a particularly interesting rumor. My ego must be massive. Now THAT'S personal. I just want what I say to make a difference. Perhaps, I am looking for a legacy to leave since I sure won't be leaving any wealth behind.

A lot of folks might say I should go back to adoption separation as a theme but I have outgrown that one-issue thing. If I were to put it on a level of importance in my personal life, right now, it would be down the line a bit. I am more concerned about the threat to the separation of church and state in the United States than I am about something that happened to a lot of us women who grew up in the Baby Scoop Era and over which I had no control. The Original Birth Certificate of the adoptee is not my raison de vivre. I am more anxious about the preservation of Social Security and Medicare than I am about open records. I am tired of infighting about who has it worse, mothers or adoptees. We have bigger threats facing us.

So I have a choice. I can either be a whore and write what I think the people I know want to read (adoption, adoption, adoption), or I can continue to offer opinions on the things I regard as important. I probably also need to learn how to market what I write. I am a techno-challenged, older writer. I know how to link, how to upload and download and that is about it.

I have addressed current events. I have cleverly inserted pictures to go with the theme of the essay du jour. I have recommended this blog on Google and Facebook. I have a feeling that most folks that take the time to look give me a 'meh' as far as being able to hold their interest. Yeah, I am a bit discouraged but I will be back at it, one way or another, until I get it right. I am stubborn that way.

Right now, I am going to get some cheese to go with my whine. I haven't had breakfast.

Je Suis Charlie

You know, even though I will defend to the death the right for the Charlie Hebdo-type comic images to exist, and support what they do as free speech, I have to say that a lot of what I see in that genre repels me, personally. It doesn't OFFEND me...it just makes me a wee bit queasy. I am not offended by images of gay couples kissing (actually, I find those kind of sweet) but I don't want to see pictures of ANYONE'S private sex life or dripping genitals. And pictures of rape of any sort totally appall me. That's why I have a line I won't cross in what I post. Sue me. Je suis Charlie to a point. Like them, I also want my right to pick and choose what I say, post and endorse.

To me, what CH has published isn't blasphemy. To find something blasphemic, one would have to believe and I don't. No, I find it VULGAR. Some of the images around the web depicting the generally accepted image of the possible "Christ" figure being raped or indulging in sex, gay or straight, I find vulgar, too and I am not a friend of fundamentalist religion of any sort.  Those pictures are sophmorically vulgar, actually. Like religion, porn should be private and personal, as well and not forced on the general population. And, like any idea, religion is not exempt from satire or criticism.

Now that aversion to vulgarity could be my southern belle upbringing or old tapes in my head but I don't think so. I think it has to do with respecting the dignity of all humans. I don't find it disrespectful to the religion so much as disrespectful of the viewer and society in general. Having said that, I will never tell anyone what they can post on THEIR timeline and what kind of comedy they should enjoy.

I look at a lot of those images as they pass my way and see a lot of anger beneath the vulgarity. I think I can understand that. I am angry at our own American Taliban, the far-right, Dominionist, fundamentalist christians who want to impose their interpretation of old, scattered, bronze-age texts that have been re-vamped and poorly translated on this nation as law..a kind of law that would set us back, socially, over 100 years. The bible, as we know it now, is a product of the people from a time when supernatural explanations were all they had. No one really knows who wrote what and as a book of history, it sucks.

You see, there is something else I find even more vulgar. I think hate is much uglier than any kind of pornographic image. The ones who want to impose their religion on the rest of the human race talk a good talk about a god of love and peace, but the things they do, in the name of that god, are anything but loving and peaceful. And tolerance and acceptance of differences in people and cultures is off their board, entirely.

No religious belief gives anyone the right to murder, terrorize or try to enforce a type of lifestyle or laws on others. When the terrorists, foreign and domestic, take lives or try to intimidate and control and say they are doing the will of some unseen, unproven deity, then I have to call them on their bullshit. If you don't think that we have American Terrorists that are a product of fundamentalist christian religion one has only to look at the KKK, the killers of doctors providing reproductive health services to women, any number of "militias"...oh they are not overtly visible and are just emerging from the shadows, but they are bent on world domination, just as avidly and fanatically as the followers of fundamentalist Islam.

That is why, as icky as I find some of the products of Charlie Hebdo and others like them, I am with those hundreds of thousands of sane, civilized French citizens who marched against the horrific act that was more pornographic than any pictures of Islamic genitalia. That is why I can say, "Je suis Charlie."

Besides, I'd rather be Charlie than be like this bunch. Now THIS is offending me.

France, The Frozen North and Hollywild

Yesterday and the day before there was much death, chaos and mayhem. In France, the specter of religious extremism and hate reached out its ugly, violent hand and people died. In the frozen north in Michigan and western New York State, areas all too familiar to me and to my husband, traffic pile-ups caused by the weather killed and injured and placed many more in danger. My heart still hurts for all the dead and injured.

My heart hurts just as much for a tragedy that won't make the international news. Early, yesterday morning, an electrical fire started in a barn used to house primates at a small, locally-owned "zoo" in Wellford, SC, just north of Spartanburg, SC, my home town. 28 animals, all primates, died of smoke inhalation. 14 lived. One of the victims was a 34-year-old female chimp named "Rosie" who loved to paint and knew no other home. I probably saw her and fed her when I went to that zoo about 28 years ago.

PETA and other animal activists have been after these people, hoping to shut them down and have the animals placed in better, larger facilities. To their credit, the owners of Hollywild did try to clean up their act and improve the lot of the animals. But keeping animals in unnatural and confined spaces is just wrong in my view of things. I guess zoos have their place in education, maintenance of endangered species and scientific observation, although observing animals in the wild would be more productive. But placing animals in cages to entertain people is not exactly being animal lovers. Hollywild also had christmas light displays and a picnic area. It was a draw for locals who didn't have a lot of money but wanted to have a day out.

Understand that these were not domesticated animals. You can't tame these creatures. These were animals that should have been roaming free in jungles and on savannas, living as their natures intended. I am, sadly, hoping that this tragedy will shut the operation down. I am not a member of or a supporter of PETA. Their stances seem too rigid and their actions too over-the-top for me, and I am an unrepentant carnivore. But I agree with them about Hollywild. If there is such a thing as benign cruelty, an oxymoron for sure, that was what I felt when I visited that place.

So, in the past couple of days, there has been death and there have been injuries, fear and trauma. Let's not place Rosie and her friends lower on the ladder than the other victims. They didn't ask to be where they were and they were the most innocent of victims.


RIP Rosie and all who died with her. Here she is, painting a picture for a keeper.

Scared Of My Shadow

When I was a little girl I was afraid of the dark. I was also afraid of being alone, especially in the dark. If I found myself awake and alone in the dark, my imagination would do all sorts of grotesque things with shadows and sounds. Some scientists think that it could be an inherent and sensory memory of the time when our species was very vulnerable to predators at night. All I know is that I was terrified, at times, with the horrible things my imagination manufactured.

Fear did not leave me when I matured. I was just afraid of different things...of not being accepted, of being misjudged, of not being loved. Then I became afraid of poverty and not being able to provide for my children. I had such nightmares. It took me a while to learn that courage was not the absence of fear but doing what I had to do in spite of my fear. It took me longer to learn that a lot of the fear I felt was of things that had not and might not happen and over which I had no control. Those fears I finally consigned to the mental trash bin.

Now we live in scary times. I have faced things much worse than the things which I thought were so scary when I was younger. I have had gut-wrenching, cannot eat or sleep, deep anxiety and it was for REAL reasons. I found that I do suffer from an anxiety disorder and have had therapy and do have medication for it, but I don't take it unless I need it. With the new congress in session, I see I am going to need one, here and there.

I am no longer watching the news and reading very little of my news feed. We on the left accuse the right wing of gaining support by fostering fear in the small-minded, super-religious and unfortunately ignorant voters. But what they are trying to do to this nation is scarier than any of the non-existent threats with which they have conned their supporters. I am aware of the power of hate and fear and they have wielded both with a total disregard for how stupid they sound to the thinking person. Unfortunately, now our own faction is using the threats of what congress might do to our safety nets of Social Security, Medicare, and social service programs not to mention the rights and safety and autonomy of women and minorities. Lions and Tigers and Ted Cruz!! Oh My!!

Without Social Security and Medicare, my husband and I would/will be up that fabled, sewage-laden creek without a boat, much less a paddle, so I am trying my damnedest to hide my eyes and not see what they might be able to do. I am in the "tell me when it's over" mode. The Cowardly Lion has nothing on me. But, I am also angry. I am angry at the people who vote for the purveyors of these vicious ideals, and am appalled at the fact that they will not listen when told they are voting against their OWN BEST INTERESTS. I am further appalled at the "more progressive than thou's" who stayed at home and didn't vote in the mid-terms. Well, when your grandmother is begging food and your parents are thrown out of their house, tell them how the candidates weren't liberal enough or how both parties are alike and all are corrupt. Hey, there's a new reality show for you...Homeless Seniors.

Listen, Sunshine. You haven't discovered anything new. Yes, we have some bad apples. And we don't agree with everything every left-leaning politician says. But, we have to consider the alternative and understand that Rome wasn't built in a day and that baby steps are better than no steps at all. Well, your actions bore rotten fruit. I guess you showed us, huh? I vote Democrat because their platform, while not perfect, is a hell of a lot better than what the Koch Brothers, Alec-Driven, Dominionist GOP is pushing at us. This is where Bill Maher and I part company. There ain't no tens, Billy Boy. Let's get over this infighting and stop the damn fear-mongering.

YES, I am calling the left on fear-mongering, liberal-style. Every day, a number of friends and groups on Face Book publish another story about what the right is trying to do and how we will all starve and die because of it. That is not the way you do it because frightened people usually don't act. They run and hide.

I know, because I am hiding. I might peek out to see how the battle goes, but I am inside my cocoon until I can't stay there anymore. I have talked, written, emailed, signed, and voted myself hoarse, finger-cramped and tired. I'm not giving up, but I am NOT going to watch the only safety nets those of us seniors have, who are not affluent,  go down the drain because some arrogant idiots on both sides have played us like fiddles. I am angry and weary of mourning young, unarmed men (and some women) killed because of their skin color. I am frustrated and, yes, I am scared to death.

So sue me. Better yet, give me a good reason to come out and fight, because I am not feeling the fight, just the flight.

Too bad most of the really progressive nations don't take senior immigrants unless they are rich. Is that a contradiction? Is it over yet?

Dream a Little Dream With Me

Last night, we settled down in our toasty, warm robes, a dog in each lap to enjoy some commercial-free television. 'Nature,' which has long been one of our favorite programs on PBS was showing a new program which featured the wildlife and countryside of France.

Like the rest of America, I am woefully short of knowledge of the geography of any nation but my own, but I got a look at Corsica, the French Alps, Aquitaine, and so many other places that captured my wonder and imagination. Heavily-antlered red deer bucks ran through a lovely forest, otters frisked and played in streams,  little birds dipped into running streams and nested on sheer cliffs and everywhere, there was clean, natural beauty. For the 50 minutes the show ran, I was entranced. I wanted to be there.

I remember walking through woods without seeing garbage dumped because some worker was too lazy to make it to the landfill. I remember streams so clean you could drink from them. I remember clear skies with no huge columns of smoke rising to blot out the sun. No more...

The supposedly most powerful nation in the world is a cesspool. Oh, there are isolated spots, nationally protected park lands and some protected wilderness and I am glad of it. But what impressed me about France is that the lovely countryside I saw was populated by people as well as wildlife. Somehow, some people have learned to live with nature and it was lovely to see.

I read the bible a lot, when I was younger and being indoctrinated, and there were some stories that stuck with me. In one of them, two brothers, one hungry and the other greedy, fooled their nearly blind father into thinking one was the other and  he bestowed his inheritance on the younger son rather than the oldest. The older son agreed to the deal because the younger was cooking porridge and he was hungry. The moral was that the older son "sold his birthright for a mess of pottage." He let his immediate appetite leave him without future security. We have done the same with our natural resources.

Americans have been so busy exploiting our land (yes, I know other countries have as well but I am not talking about them here...just us) that any beauty to be seen where people live is carefully landscaped and structured. I remember waking up in a farm house in Cooperstown, NY, looking out my window and seeing a mountainside meadow for a front yard. I was very small, but I knew I was seeing something special. There is still a little of that natural look left, but there are new houses and a Quonset hut garage on a muddy flat sharing that mountain now.

Humans on this planet have passed the 7 billion mark. We are using the resources at a record rate. We are sucking the earth dry. The fact is that humanity may wipe itself out as it continues to frack and drill and dig and burn and build. When it's all gone and we are gone, what can the greedy do with their money, then? The earth, on the other hand, will recover, other species will take over and thrive. We won't be missed.

We are the only animal on Earth that cannot live with the cycles and rhythms of the seasons and who look at the land and see dollar signs rather than food and room to run. We have lovely woods out back, full of old pines and scrub oaks dripping with Spanish Moss but it is marred by the discarded garbage of lazy people. I used to love to walk through it. But, after our subdivision was built, people started USING the woods...not for pleasure but for the opportunity to dump unwanted garbage, old, undelivered phone books and even broken furniture.  Their discarded cats have gone feral and killed the quail and other small wild things that used to be a daily sight from our kitchen window. A Trap, Spay/Neuter, Release program is helping but there are still kittens being born. Stray pets are a common sight.

So I dreamed last night. In this dream, my husband and I were strolling down a country lane in Alsace with our dogs. I knew where we were because there was a quaint little sign on a fence post telling me. We were watching dragonflies hovering over a pond, on the hunt for food and a mate. It was quiet, balmy and wonderful but I woke up and had to let the brats out back. I mean to treasure that dream. It's probably as close as I'll ever get.

American needs to grow up and learn its lesson about a lot of things. I just hope we are not wiped out by our own hubris before that can happen.

Prayers and Wishes

Just a few miles from where I live, there is a small town where the writer, Zora Neale Hurston, began her life and her career. She was a free-thinker, and talked about prayer once. She said, "...prayer seems to me a cry of weakness, and an attempt to avoid, by trickery, the rules of the game as laid down. I do not choose to accept weakness. I accept the challenge of responsibility. Life, as it is, does not frighten me, since I have made my peace with the Universe as it is, and bow to its laws."

Of all the issues facing this benighted nation in the present day, the one that concerns me the most, is the obvious attempt by well-funded christian extremists to erode the very foundation of our Constitution, tear down the wall between church and state, and inflict a theocracy on our country. It's not just me, an anti-theist, that worries about that. I know many believers, more of the moderate variety, who fear the same thing. Right now religion is being used by the ultra- conservative faction to control a large bloc of voters from bible belt states.They have managed, by invoking the name of god, to con a lot of people into voting against their own best interests. It's scary.

The god of love, the one I was taught about when I was indoctrinated into religion as a child, has turned into the god of political power, of hate, of dispassionate disregard for the poor and needy and a nasty bully to boot. Now, to me, after reading the entire bible, that is the god that has always been around in the heads of many believers. The church ladies and deacons who sin in darkness and turn up their noses at what they perceive to be the failings of others have been around a long time. BUT THEY HAVE NO PLACE IN OUR GOVERNMENT!!

I remember a friend from another country who remarked, after riding from one end of my home town to another, that she had never seen so many churches in such a small town. The harder we try to pursue justice that does not include the fearful, hateful, judgmental heritage of our Puritan, patriarchal forebears, the more these Dominionists seek to force it on us. They are working that angle, demonizing everything and everyone who isn't white, male, well-off and fundamentalist christian.

The Dominionists, according to Wikipedia are those who believe that the government should be run by christians and by biblical law as understood by christians. They also call their movement "Christian Reconstructionism" or the "New Apostolic Reformation." These folks are, as cited above, scary as hell. They are well-funded by, among others, the Koch brothers. They want to bring about "the end times" which they take from a literal interpretation of the Revelation. The first time I read that particular book of the bible, I thought that John or whoever it was that supposedly wrote it, had found some 'shrooms on that island and was a bit bonkers. But I have heard so much nonsense come out of church leaders of today that I am sure there was some kind of method in his madness. These good folks want all of us to die, for them to go to some kind of heaven and the rest of us to provide their entertainment as we roast in a mythical hell. They cherry-pick, embroider and have really managed to make a lot of people give up on life for a promise that cannot be delivered. If they really believe that then I have some big bridges to sell them.

I have a friend whose loved one is fighting stage IV lung cancer. It's not good. Everyday, there are prayers offered (and talked about because praying makes them look good) and miracles talked about and I get really frustrated by that. It is good that there are those who also offer practical help, with or without prayer. But if she beats this beast, it won't be a miracle. It will be her inner strength, good medicine and good care. Healthcare in the US is a mish-mash of so much dumb stuff that I can believe, easily, that the Dominionists cadre has been mixing in that area as well.

If I thought that prayer would do the job, I would be on my knees in a heartbeat. But I put prayer in the same place Ms. Hurston put it. It is an excuse to sound caring rather than actually doing a deed. It is a breast-pounding profession of piety and it carries no weight with me. Pray if you must, if you believe, but don't make it a replacement for real action.

One of the things helping our friend is marijuana. She has problems with pain and appetite and weed helps. Our good christian state of Florida, in the mid-terms, rejected a law allowing medical marijuana to be legally sold. They say it was in the way the law was written but I have my doubts that that was the total reason Proposition 1 didn't make it. My friend has to break the law to bring his loved one some relief. If prayers and wishes were money and weed, THAT would help. We can hope for the best, we can work for the best, but save the magic tricks for a Disney movie. Like Ms. Hurston, I am more interested in working with what IS.

Getting Political, Frustrated and Pissed

Well, Mr. and Ms. American Apathy, the Congress you allowed to be elected by the rank and file Fox New Fans and their handlers has been seated. You have no one to blame for that but yourselves. Oh? You say you were not impressed with what the other party had to offer? You want someone more progressive and liberal? Your time was more "valuable?" Well you sure showed us, didn't you? We are in for a two-year train wreck and they are after MY Social Security and Medicare, without which we, personally, will be up a polluted tributary without suitable means of propulsion and so will your grandparents unless they are wealthy. And YOU put us there.

I am appalled by the statistics, by the numbers of registered Democrats who didn't bother to get out and vote, but also the notable absence of that much-touted 99% who have made so much noise. I was all for you guys, but what about putting your votes where your memes and placards are? You are NOT going to get the Perfect Progressive. Most people who run for office, even the Bernie Sanders and the Elizabeth Warrens, have the pragmatic, practical side that will allow them to reach across the aisle in order to do the job.

The POTUS taught constitutional law. He also knows that things worked best if compromises could be reached across the aisle. He didn't count on the overt and ugly hate. Or maybe he did. He was handicapped by the hate of the right wing of the House of Representatives and you know it, If he didn't do what you wanted him to do, then you were expecting too much and you need to learn how our government works. You sure didn't help him any in the mid-terms. He is an imperfect man but he's the best we have, right now and he is good enough to win my total support.

I'm an old-school liberal. I believe in the lyrics to "Imagine" and I want to buy the world a cup of tea and keep it company. But I am also past the age of starry-eyed idealism. The realities are that we need to be careful fighting this well-funded beast that is trying to take us back to the 1800's. We have to do our damn homework!

I think that we, as a nation, have proven that there is not a frickin' thing exceptional about us. We are no better than any other nation in this world and not as good as some. Nationalism is killing us, as is ignorance and the worship of the almighty dollar, the efforts of the fundamentalist theocrats to grind our educational system to a halt, and the apathy of the rank and file. America is either going to explode, fracture or just keep on careening into third-world desperation. Proud of yourselves, yet?

I was told I had no right to criticize the person who doesn't vote. Well sue me! Yes I do when I see that apathy taking away the basics of life from people who need and deserve them. I am sick of the idea of liberty when there is none. We are not the "Land of the Free." We are the home of the climate deniers and the religious fanatics. We give idiots like Rush Limbaugh and Glenn Beck and Sarah Palin an open platform. There is no true journalism by any form of media, anymore. We crowd into churches and hand our life's savings over to charlatans like Joel Osteen. We let Pat Robertson meander on and on when he should have been shut down years ago. We allow speeches from Klansmen and Duck Dynasty Doomers and protest if an atheist is asked to speak at a college. We are so damn right-wing heavy we have become an international JOKE!

I remember a time when integrity meant something in this country. Now, I realize that was naivete'. This nasty underbelly of Puritanical, Patriarchal, Jim Crow cruelty has been with us all along, just waiting for us to weaken enough to make their power play. The ones fighting these plutocrats are like "The 300" of Sparta...brave, but not enough. I can only hope we take the lesson and come back stronger. I still have hope. Silly, but it's what gets me through. If just the African Americans, Hispanics and women, who are the game these nimrods are trying to slaughter, got out there and voted, the Ridiculous Right would come down like a tree to an ax.

Stop looking for the perfect candidate and start looking at who is more in line with what is needed than the others and who is electable. Stop expecting Utopia because there is no such thing. Start trying to rebuild a working, fair and productive system. ALL people are imperfect, so just stop worrying about that perfect candidate and stop with the idea that one party is as bad as the other. The Dems are not perfect but they beat the other side all hollow and they have people that are ELECTABLE. We just need to personally research these people and find out who has been bought and who is still his/her own person. Then, by our vote, we weed out the corporate whores.

We have had some hard lessons passed to us in the last decade or so. New Town, Ferguson, the militarization of our police forces, the gutting of the food stamp programs, Cliven Bundy's brazen crimes, shoot-outs and toddlers killing themselves or others with real guns....that's just a little sample. WHAT have we learned and WHEN will we ever learn? I shudder when I think of the kind of world that is left to my children, my grandchildren and their children.

There might be a few people who read this. I don't reach the audience I used to reach when I was all about adoption. But, like I said, there are bigger fish to fry right now. And adoption isn't the only trauma on the chart. We need to give America a chance to be what she can be. We need to give OURSELVES a chance.

No matter what anyone believes, he can't do it by himself.

The "D" Word

Most people, as they get deeper into the 7th decade of their lives, will notice things not working as well as they once did. Joints creak and ache, there are graduations to bifocals and trifocals, some keep their teeth in a little plastic dish at night and rich food becomes a plea for gastric misery. The medical bills get higher while a high old time is staying up to catch both NCIS shows on Tuesday night.

I recently made a trip to SC. This is a journey I have made on my own, driving myself, on several occasions with no problem. This time was different. Not only did I get sick while there, I was totally exhausted while trying to come home. I didn't bounce back. What should have taken me 7 hours with a stop for lunch and gas, with time left over to do chores when I got home took me two days and an extra night in a motel (The Day's Inn in Darien, GA, is a nice place, BTW) just to get myself and the rental car home.

I'll be 70 in July. I am reasonably active and enjoy going places but it seems my body has other ideas. We have a month, here, jam-packed with doctor's visits, tests and pokings and proddings. Hubby is 75. I see all those active, bubbly seniors on TV and wonder what they are taking or smoking. We are not those people.

We also have friends facing the big one. It seems that the older one gets, the more you will see people around you succumbing to heart disease, cancer and strokes. I lost an old friend just a couple of months ago to heart disease. The wife of a man I have known since he was a toddler is dealing with stage IV lung cancer.

Hubby and I have had the "final arrangements" talk. His first serious girlfriend, a year younger than he is, died right after Christmas. The older you are, the closer the reaper wields his scythe among those you know. I have one big request of my loved ones...when my time comes, make sure they don't let me hurt. Other than that, nature will have its way. I am not afraid of the end. It is just a very long rest after a lot of wear and tear. The only difference between death and a good night's sleep is that you don't dream and you don't wake up. I'm cool with that. When it comes to me and my husband, I will admit to the very selfish wish that I might go first. Dying, so it seems to me, is not as hard as watching someone you dearly love do the dying.

I think the thing that worries me most is what kind of condition this nation and the world will be in as we pass it on to the next generation. Things are pretty bad now and, I fear, could get worse unless the rest of the Progressives and Liberals who like to talk a good talk but have no real idea of the practicalities, get on board and realize we have to take it in steps. No, a moderate Democrat is not your dream POTUS but look at the alternative. The Libertarians talk a good talk but research them and see where they really stand when it comes to violence against minorities and women and caring for the poor. Not no but HELL no to that bunch.

Some of us keep up an impassioned plea for sense, compassion and integrity in our governing bodies and some others of us talk but don't walk. Yes, I have a problem with people who don't vote. As the old county song says, "There ain't no Tens." Human beings are running for office..not all your favorite liberal icons rolled into one. These human beings are the ones who understand that there is more to the job that leading a liberal revolution. They are the ones who know that they are not going to get all that we want but know that we stand a better chance of getting some of it if we can give them the support. These politicos are not only leaning to the left, they are doing so in a realistic manner and things have happened if you have been watching. GOP/Tea Party fear-mongering is eventually going to devour itself. The infighting has already begun.

So be glad that there are some of us old farts, in the sunset years, who remember the idealism and hope of the 60's and still believe that Lennon was saying something important when he wrote "Imagine." Not all of us have turned into pin-striped, Volvo-driving, fat cat conservatives. Liberal seniors are alive and well (for now) and we just need our input appreciated. Believe it or not, your best source of learning and information is dying off. Don't let us go without trying, at least, to understand what we have learned from years of life. It's going to be up to those coming after us to finish what we have tried to start.

Peace.

Waiting For Our Ship To Come In

I wonder how much time in my life I have wasted waiting for life to do right by me. It's funny, but we humans seem to want to base our happiness and well-being on things and people over which we have absolutely no control.

We are a needy species. We want to be liked, nay, loved by all around us. The day we face reality is the day we accept that we are not everyone's cup of tea. The day we can be okay with that fact is the day we stop putting the burden of our emotional well-being on the shoulders of others.

The day we accept that even the best-made plans can go awry, when we can accept our powerlessness over the vagaries of this existence, that just might be the day we learn to ride the waves and rejoice in the little things. Case in point: With the help of some very generous friends, I was able to go visit my children for just a very short while. The day that was supposed to be our fun day was the day I was taken to the hospital with, well, very unpleasant gastric difficulties. We were able to be together but our quality time was messed with, very badly. Now, I am determined to find a way to make that trip again, and try, again, for the quality time, but I hold no unrealistic expectations.

Speaking of unrealistic expectations, why do I continue to buy a Lotto ticket? While I have spent years working just to survive, I have always held hopes of hitting some kind of jackpot...just enough so that I wouldn't have to worry about unexpected illnesses, broken water lines, car trouble, could help my kids when they needed it...you know...that kind of thing. Yes, I harbor fantasies of travel in comfort but that probably is not going to be my lot in life. Right now, we are just making it.

We are trying to sell some land we bought on an impulse and a hope and which we now wish we hadn't. We cannot use it the way we wanted to. It's a good 30+ miles from doctors, gas stations and shopping and is hard to reach if the roads are not scraped in the winter. It is my fantasy, but it is impractical and the money ran out before the dream could be realized. The proceeds from that sale would allow us some breathing room, but the area is in the center of the most depressed area of West Virginia. Forget the natural trout stream, the fresh water spring, the towering peaks at the back of the property, forget the beautiful trees and natural plants and the deer and other wildlife...people just flat can't afford it. So we have equity in our home and a paid-for 6.25 acres in the hills which makes us property poor.

Remember that thing about the best-laid plans? Well, ours have "aft gang agley" all over the place. I doubt we will ever be those gadabout retirees you see on TV, traveling the country in their luxury RV, with their Consumer Cellular phones (although we do have the phones and like them). I think a lot of us look for our ship to come in over the horizon with all sails full and flags flying..a mighty galleon of goodies. But maybe we need to look next to the dock. Our ship might be a little motor boat with room enough for two to go fishing. 

I look at life now with an eye to what's the worst that could happen. Then I look at what we have already been through and survived and I figure whatever happens, I can take it. I will still fight to keep what we have worked for and earned (hands OFF our Social Security, you greedy politicos), but life could be a lot worse. We might not be able to travel the world, but we can go fishing.

You bring the tackle, Honey. I'll bring the bait.

The More Things Change......

I practically write a blog essay every morning on my Facebook timeline. I thought I should go back to blogging in order to keep my friends from going glassy-eyed trying to read my morning dose of TMI.

I intend to get personal with this blog. After all, I am the one doing the writing and I have a lot invested in life...about 69 and a half years. I am content, personally, but furious about a lot of things and disturbed by others. Nothing is perfect.

My first blog, then, is going to be about how I got deeply into and then out to the fringes of a personal issue. That was the battle of the unmarried mothers of the 50's, 60's and 70's who had their children taken for adoption and the way both the mothers and their children, now adults, were affected. Groups formed, broke apart, re-formed and the whole issue has been a love/hate cluster-fuck at times. There is a lot of anger, insecurity and frustration in this huge group of American Philomenas and the adult adopted population. Too often, the anger has been directed by one group towards the other. Mothers have fought mothers and adoptees have fought mothers and it gets tiresome after a while.

Mothers have been blamed for the sealing of records and the refusal of the holders of the keys to release OBC's  (original birth certificates) to the adopted person. The amended birth certificates are called, by the denizens of the adoption reform movement, "legalized lies." I agree. Our adult children should have complete access to those records and their OBC's. I also strongly feel that mothers should be granted access to all records concerning their child's birth, the OBC (which we generated), their care prior to adoption and their adoption records. Quid Pro Quo and that is where the trouble starts.

It is very difficult to explain to the adult adoptee who grew up in a totally different social environment from that which their mothers came. Many are still adamant about the idea that we had a choice in the matter. I am so sick of hearing about how the person hurt the worst in adoption separation was the adoptee because they didn't have a choice. Guess what, boys and girls. NO INFANT, adopted or not, has a choice about anything. And whether you want to believe it or not, the majority of us didn't have a choice, either. To my adult daughter, I can only say, believe what you will. You don't know me and I am tired of you insisting that I prove myself to you.

In fact, I am totally tired of the whole shooting match. We go into reunion expecting such unreal things and we come out of it (yes, my reunion with my daughter is shot and that with my son is uneasy) disabused of our expectations to the point that we have to force ourselves to adjust to the reality. That's why I stand on the fringe. There is nothing much for me there in the middle of the fray. I can support what I think is right, but I am ready to have my life back. It was taken from me in 1962. I think I have been punished enough. I deserve some peace and happiness and I am tired of having someone else base their self-image on who and what I am. I am unacceptable to my daughter for who I am and what I am (a godless atheist liberal). I have cried my last tears over it and have released her to her life and welcome to it.

So there is my semi-exit from the soap opera that is adoption loss and reunion. Like Sean Connery, I should never say never, but I am not making that issue a priority any more. I can't. I have a husband who just went into remission after battling follicular Non-Hodgkins Lymphoma. I have health issues. I have loved ones with health issues. I have two raised children who love and need me. I have a home and a life and family and friends and I refuse to put any of that on hold for the sake of an old wound. I refuse to accept the idea that I will live my life in grief. I refuse to accept that I have a wound that will never heal. Funny, but I feel plenty healed, myself. Her resentment will have to remain just that...Hers.

As for my son, it is hard to get close to a scary man who personifies everything I politically and socially oppose. He's a violent bigot and I am afraid of him. The last time I heard the "n" word come out of his mouth was the last time I ever want to hear him say it..and he said it with such venom.

So, I am two for two. My adult children are not very likable. I will always love them but from a distance, only. I did get a real gift from my reunion with my daughter, though. I have a beautiful granddaughter with whom I have a loving relationship. I am forging a friendship with my grandson and I am the great-grandmother of four terrific kids. If that's a consolation prize, I'll take it with a big smile on my face.

The most important reason, though, for getting out of the Baby Scoop Era pool and grabbing my towel is the fact that we have bigger and more important fish to fry. If we don't make some changes in our government and in our national lifestyles, if we don't maintain the separation of church and state, if we don't challenge the threat we are facing from the plutocratic wealthy, the arrogant, the theocratic fanatics and the climate change deniers, then we don't stand a chance in hell of having the kind of governmental representation that will open adoption records. And that's a fact.

Those things are now my priorities. Each of us can do just a little, but together, we can do a lot. And, for pete's sake, put first things first. The past? Let It Go (love that song)!