The Reality Comes Crashing In

I officially miss my kids.

Maybe it's because Jeanine is back in Boston today, working, and I'm up in Maine with all the animals. Maybe it's because I received two letters from Jake and one from Zachary today.

Jake drew a picture of a tree, and then wrote a note requesting a care package: an action figure, the newspaper, a bathrobe and "sum pichers of the cats."

The newspaper?

Yes, I sent him without a bathrobe because he insisted he didn't want one. Not that I'm feeling guilty.

Action figure.... do you think he means this?



The special edition "Crazy Cat Lady?" Or is that too much like his mother? And look, she has a bathrobe, too.

Zachary wrote me, in typical Zachary fashion:

Dear Mom S,
I have sent out a letter and in my care package I would have the marvel bat 2 magic decks. Mom you can find them at Newberry Comics. Oh and some candy and comics.

Love, Zack

His required letter sending had taken place. I did send out care packages but before I received the letters. Allan is at work locating the marvel bat 2 magic cards from Newbury Comics. I'm surprised he didn't say, second shelf, to the left.

As Jeanine and I walked onto Ogunquit Beach yesterday, we watched cute little children playing in the sand happily. Jeanine sighed.

I miss the kids.

I rolled my eyes.

As Jeanine and I walked off the beach, late in the day, we watched no longer cute little children crying and screaming as their weary parents were trying to get them packed up for home.

Okay, I don't miss the kids, Jeanine said.

Today, armed with letters and faced with an old cat who insists on sitting on my lap even though it is 100 degrees, I miss my kids. The shooting at the Unitarian Church has left me feeling more susceptible. My idea of a safe place has been jarred. While the idea of anyone doing harm at a YMCA camp in the Berkshires is fairly remote, I think about Ben at Camp OUT.

All the kids at Camp OUT. They are all kids of LGBT parents. None of them chose to be a kid of a LGBT parent but there they are, hanging out together, trying to make sense of it all.

Are they targets? Should I not write about it? Should it be a top secret place no one knows about?

Maybe it's easier to shuffle my worries into a box called "I miss my kids." It normalizes the anxiety I feel about their safety in a world where LGBT people are still targets for extreme hate crimes.

A world I'm watching my oldest son come closer and closer to joining as different and there is not a single thing I can do to make it easier, keep him safe, or shelter him from what is to come.

A world that will take my other two sons confidence and comfort with their family structure and toss it in the air. No positive images on the daily news, only kids killed for being different, crazy people charged with hate coming into their churches.

When will Zachary's "Day of Silence" become a year of silence because to speak up is too challenging?

When will Jake's easy response, I have two moms and two dads, turn into a guarded shrug?

Like I said, it is easier to simply say, I miss my kids.

Otherwise, the reality comes crashing in, I am paralyzed by fear and the people who hate win.

Tennessee Shooting

I'm still stunned by the news that an armed gunman went into a Unitarian Church in Tennessee that was in the middle of a performance by kids of the play "Annie" and killed two people, with the intention of killing many more.

A play, on a Sunday. Kids. adults. In a church.

He hated liberal views, he hated gay people. The church had just received a grant to create a LGBT and questioning youth cafe, space to be safe to be themselves.

I am a Unitarian Universalist. Yes, everyone, I am an atheist. It's the beauty of the church- you are challenged to think, consider and if you do not believe in God, there is room for you to believe in social justice, in community, in peace.

Four people are in critical condition. Greg McKendry, an usher, wrestled the man to the ground. He died, saving countless others as the killer packed 78 rounds of ammunition in his bag.

So as we examine whether or not Lawrence King was a bully that deserved shooting, as we examine whether or not gay history is something that is "too sexual" to teach in schools, I ask this:

When will we examine the right wing groups that create such hatred in our society? When will we put them on the stand and cross examine their lives, their homes, their parents? When will their hatred be abnormal?

A church.

On Sunday.

200 people watching kids perform "Annie."

If this doesn't call to mind the 16th Street Baptist Street Bombing, I would ask you why. That no children died is only a testament to Mr. McKendry.

This is about civil rights.

And this just got really personal.

Sticks, Stones and Dead Boys Bones

I love Ben's videos. This one is a little long, but if you hang on, Jake comes in the background and annoys him- welcome to my world.




And it is the reason why I am so afraid for him. After hearing about the boy who hung himself, Jeanine turned to me, looked at Ben and said, Well... we're doing okay, aren't we?

After he taped the video, he came running downstairs with lipstick and asked me to put it on.

No, thank you. Once a year, that's it for me.

C'mon, Mom, just put some on...

I couldn't write about Lawrence King's murder until yesterday. I still can't really touch on my own fears for my son.

When Ben was in pre-school, he wanted to dress up as Blossom for Halloween. Blossom was the head Power Puff girl. He loved her. I bought the costume.



Then I sat him down and said, Some people might not understand why a boy would want to be Blossom.

He didn't care. Blossom was his favorite character.

I remember shrugging and saying, I think you look great. But, I want you to know, someone might tease you about it.

Blossom was one tough chick.

He doesn't dress in pink anymore, or wear heels or make up, like Lawrence King. His budding sexuality is being expressed towards girls, for the time being.

And he is constantly anxious.

I don't have to tell him it's not safe. He knows.

He also loves posting on YouTube. He is a ham, at heart and incredibly creative. He has always been too afraid to join a theater club, but has a new outlet for his desire to be a star.

His friends have his address.

All I can say is it was a lot easier to walk him around as Blossom on Halloween night, armed with a firm look to all the people who opened the door to my boy dressed in pink.

Sticks and stones
may break my bones
but words will never hurt me

Unfortunately, now kids are carrying guns.

And we're left to bury the dead boys bones.

Hate Crime Charges Filed

The Ventura county shooting has been declared a hate crime. The victim, Lawrence King, is brain dead. The charges will be filed once he is officially declared dead, as the family has decided to donate his organs.

King had been in the "foster care system and lived at Casa Pacifica, a nearby center for abused and neglected children."

Why do I know this story is only going to get sadder and sadder?