She went into her glory

Dear readers,

This post is not going to be for everyone.  This is an account of my memories of my Mother's passing.  It is mostly for my own benefit, my own record, so that I can remember and have it available, but you are welcome to read.  It's somewhat graphic at the end (not gory, just detailed) and may be upsetting or triggering.  Don't feel like you -need- to read it, but you are welcome to do so.  Thank you for your love and support in the past year.  Peace be unto you and unto us all.

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One year ago was a busy day.  We'd held Mother's Day a little on the fly just the Sunday before because we weren't sure she would make it the remaining three weeks.  My sister and our second-oldest brother and his husband were able to join us, with our oldest brother calling in from back East.  Mom was still fairly lucid so she could see and hear from all her kids, though she wasn't able to come upstairs and join us.  I had bought a book just the day before, and read a little bit that night, hoping that I would have time to delve further into its insights and make this time easier for everyone.

My sister and her family had come again on Wednesday afternoon because we knew that time was shrinking rapidly.  Mom's frailty seemed to advance at an increasing rate, with her able to move around the house with help one day to barely able to move to her own bathroom the next: from mostly lucid to barely communicating in just a few days.  It was as though she saw the end in sight and was willing herself toward it.   None of us could deny it of her; she had earned it.

Mom's Hospice nurse came in the mid-morning.  I helped her to move Mom in the bed that was the only place she remained, helped her be in as comfortable a position as possible.  She showed no signs of leaving us immediately and her nurse said it would probably be a few days.  There were discussions of how often the bathing lady would need to come, who was coming for the very first time that day because it was the first time she would be needed since Mom could no longer get to the shower.  My nephews and baby niece came to say good-bye about half past noon, since my brother-in-law had to take them home for one of the boys' practices that night.  They planned to come back on Saturday.  My sister stayed behind with us.

When the bath lady came about an hour later my sister and I helped her.  We worked together, washing her body and her hair. Mom seemed mostly insensible to it, not really reacting much at all.  We were nearly done, we just needed to turn her to wash her back.  I lifted the towel we had placed under her to roll her toward me and her head and shoulders fell off the foam wedge where she lied.  Her eyes popped wide open and she gasped!  The sudden shift in her position and orientation had jarred her body into a panic of gasping, even when we rolled her back into place.  We waited and watched for her breathing to calm, a process that took about forty minutes.

When her breathing relaxed, Dad took a minute to go return a call he'd gotten shortly before.  My sister and the lady remained in the room with Mom as her breathing continued to slow.  Her nurse had spoken before of a rattling sort of breath; sometimes it signified the end, sometimes it could last for days.  When we heard it, I spun around and yelled "DAD!  COME!"  He hung up the phone and got back into the room just in time to sit beside her and hold her hand as her breathing slowed to its final.  He checked her pulse and told us she was gone.

The peace that entered the room at that time was profound and unexpected in its depth.  We gathered by her bedside to say good-bye, and I felt the presence of her spirit beside me, and I felt her take my hand, which closed on its own.  The feel of her in the room lingered for a minute or two before fading away, leaving solace and sorrow in her wake.

Celebrating my feminista

I got asked tonight if I'm a feminist.


Best question ever. :D


So just in case anyone missed the memo: Yes, I am a feminist.

• I believe absolutely in the equal rights of men and women.
• I believe the genitalia and/or DNA any person possesses should neither entitle nor disenfranchise.
• I believe in respecting those who are different and protecting and uplifting those who are downtrodden.
• I do not hate men nor do I want to be exactly like one; I glory in my personal female identity.
• I work toward the day when femaleness and maleness are regarded with identical amounts of respect because of humanness.

Additionally...

• I believe absolutely in the right of anyone to be different.
• I believe that biological sex and expressed gender are spectra; everyone is a mix of male and female traits, genes, and tissues.
• I believe that what diminishes one, diminishes all.  What uplifts one, uplifts all.

And you should check out this link: Snopes--Red Hot Mamas (The truth about "bra-burning" feminists.)

Merry Christmas

May you be with those you love.

If you cannot be with those you love, may you feel their love across whatever time or distance separates you.

If you cannot feel their love, may you have faith that it is there, regardless.

May we each feel the love of Jesus Christ and God the Mother and Father, and spread that love and light to those around us.

"The Guardians" ©Shiloh Sophia McCloud

I've been thinking a lot about gays

(Great title, right?  Right.  Hang with me.)

Granted there has been more direct reason in the past three or so years, and really one could go back to circa 1995, but for me, it has been somewhere in my mind for about 11 or 12 years.  That's when the campaign for Prop 14 started, which was the original law passed by California voters in 2000 defining marriage as between a man and a woman.  Who remembers that?  It kinda sorta hit the back burner from my POV until... what was it, 2004?  2006?  When Mayor Gavin Newsom of San Francisco basically said to the majority of the state's voters, "Screw all y'all, I'm authorizing same-sex marriages in this city!"  (And the now-famous line "It's gonna happen, whether you like it or not!"  Thanks Mr. Mayor.  Voters FTW.  Oh wait.)  Then there was bickering and repeals and appeals and blahblahblah--Prop 8.  So for the second time in a decade, we were asked to get involved.  And I did.

And it sucked.

California is a pretty blue state, and I can be a very shy person, and the 50+% of voting residents as of 2000 and 2008 still opposed gay marriage do not live in my calling area.  There's areas of the state that are fairly red, or at least magenta.  The county I live in is maybe half a shade less blue than San Francisco itself.  I carried a lingering uncertainty for my safety having a yellow Prop 8 sticker on my bumper... right next to the other yellow one that said, "Always remember you're unique, just like everyone else."  (I got into a brief discussion once about the apparent incongruency between the two.  I'm still surprised it was only once and that it was brief, because believe me, the difficulty of holding both of those as true did not escape me.)  The night of the election, all the bumper stickers in my family came off for that reason.  I'm sure many people elsewhere in the state with blue stickers did the same thing for the same reason, and really it's just a tiny taste of the fear LGBT people live with around the world.

Anyway, I did most of the stuff I was asked to do.  I made phone calls.  (I would have rather eaten escargot.  I hate phones and I hate potential confrontation.)  I stood on street corners with signs.  I may or may not have contributed money; I can't remember.  I got a balloon at a street fair in my grandparents' hometown, and walked around with that for a while that night.  I had conversations with a few friends that I didn't especially want to have, but I did it out of a feeling of obligation and duty.  That didn't mean I was especially happy about it.

The subject was inescapable one way or another.  Every.one.was.talking.about.it.  It was on the news, on the street, in businesses, at church, in the grocery store, in my college classes.  Posters and bumper stickers and banners and mediamediamedia.  (This was also the year I got royally fed up with both major political parties--I was raised Republican--and registered as an Independent.  I was sick and overwhelmed by the political madness of that year.)  And at last, I voted the way I felt I should, while secretly envying my newly baptized friend who told me straight-up she was voting no.

While all of this was going on, my family was estranged from my gay brother and his partner.  There had been a series of incidents over the years (actually very few of them directly to do with his orientation) and things just got awkward and silent.  Occasionally gifts would go one way or the other but we just didn't really communicate.  I wanted to be his friend on Facebook but felt like that was disloyal to my Dad, who was the one particularly mad at him.  We saw them at a family wedding and maybe a reunion, but... yeah.  He was still my brother, and he was still gay, and nothing was going to change that.  I wanted to know him, and his partner.  It took two and a half years after the '08 elections for that to happen.  Now we're all friends on Facebook and Words With Friends and we comment on statuses and photos and it's a grand ol' time!  The family feels whole without this weird gap because they'e not there.

Fast forward to this summer or even the whole past year.  We got back in touch with my brother and his partner as mentioned.  I became friends with a lovely lesbian couple who are my business neighbors.  (I'd link to their store--which is fantastic--but it would destroy what anonymity I maintain.)  I attended their wedding reception last month.  And beginning to learn about Carol Lynn Pearson and her life story with her gay ex-husand.  And the Daughters of Mormonism episodes immediately after mine.  And... I don't know, it has just been on my mind.  The publicized accounts of people committing suicide because of bullying, the ongoing hullabaloo of post-Prop 8, my friends; all of these things just kept it coming back up, and honestly, I'm not sure exactly where all of my opinions and beliefs sit anymore.  However, I do know where a few sit.

No one should be bullied for being LGBT, or any other reason.  No one should end up feeling like death is the only way out of their suffering.  I've rarely seen two people more in love than my neighbors.  I don't think everyone who identifies as LGBT was born that way... but prob-ssibly a lot--maybe most!--were.  I don't know why.  I don't know how that fits into my view of the purpose of life and eternal progression.  I do believe people when they say that they love a person of the same sex, and that they belong together.  (At least as much as I'd believe a heterosexual couple.  Being one or the other certainly doesn't guarantee good relationship skills or a good match.)  I believe people when they do say they've gotten a feeling from God that they are just the way that they're supposed to be.  I have no reason or right to doubt another person's spiritual experiences, even when they don't mesh with my own.

I believe that God is love, and that love is a fruit of the Spirit and when you feel love (or peace, kindness, long-suffering, etc.) that's a sign of the Spirit's presence.  (Once I put  that idea together in that manner--thanks to a Sunday School lesson no less--it blew a gigantic hole in my ideas about homosexual relationships.)  I believe everyone deserves at least a chance at love and happiness in life, even if some of us never find it.  I believe every soul has great intrinsic value, no matter what shape it's in.  I believe everyone should be treated with fairness, kindness, and respect.  I believe we all have our sins and our struggles and things that other people don't like about us: some of them we can change in this life, some of them we can't.  I don't believe being homosexual in and of itself is a sin;  I don't know where I think it goes from there, especially in context of things I've already said about love and happiness.

I wish no one would ever feel like they could not come unto Christ, partake of the Atonement and the blessings and ordinances of the Gospel, be washed clean, and believe and worship in full fellowship with all the saints because of their sexual orientation.  I wish something--whatever it is--would come to be so that no one would ever have to leave again in order to live with integrity about who they are and whom they love.  I've personally known three people (maybe four but I lost contact with him years ago) in my life who have left the LDS church at least in part because they are gay.  They've all gone on to continue being God-loving, spiritual, religious people... just not in the Church.  I wish it wouldn't be that way.  I hope someday it won't be.

I think there must be enough room in all eternity for our LGBT brothers and sisters.  I hope someday we'll find it.

Blessed Mabon!

Or as most of us know it, Happy Autumn Equinox!

Autumn is my favorite time of year.  Favorite. Fav.or.ite.  I was Autumn one year for Halloween and I just might do it again.  (It's battling for first place with being a good fairy.  Autumn fairy? Mmm intriguing.)

Today is a balance point in the year, the time when light and dark come face to face in their seasonal dance and share a smile.  Some people see it as a dreary time of year, full of dead plants and extremes in temperature (Indian Summer to "frickin' cold!" and back again) and dwindling light and daytime hours, and school.  I had a discussion a few years back with a guy I had a crush on at the time about it.  He was of the above opinion and at first couldn't see what I love it so much.

Well.  Let us have a foray into the reasons!  (Can you tell how giddy I am today?  Oh, this is going to be a scatterbrained post, I can feel it.)

• The colors: dramatic and varied across virtually the entire spectrum, with of course an emphasis on the warm tones.
• Fruition: Autumn is a time for what has been planted to be harvested.  Literally that means an abundance (*cue angel choir* Ahhhh!) of awesome and delicious food (and PIE).  Metaphorically, it embodies someone I am constantly seeking in my life.  It's my goal.  I don't always complete things, but I'm always trying to "get where I'm going", and I'm trying to be better about manifesting (*angel choir*) my goals and desires.  ... Dude, I'm totally going to get into my workbook today!  Yes!  But first, finish the blog post...  And clear (*choir*) that off my list!
• Clearing:  Clearing is another place I struggle.  I kinda sorta maybe hoard things... a lot.  It's not quite bad enough to be on TV, but it's close.  I want to clear and be cleared--I function much better in a cleared space--I just.. struggle with it, you know?  Like the sudden urge to go buy one of these awesome brooms they sell downtown... yeah.  It must be resisted, especially since I already own one... it's just at work.
• Preparation:  Autumn's a time to harvest, finish one's work, clear the fields and prepare them for the time of rest.  It's the final stage and the first stage and another one I've struggled with.  (You'd think I'd hate a time that symbolizes all these things I have problems doing.  Apparently not!)  I've seen time and again where a little preparation ahead of time would've put me in a much better position when the time came to act, and times when having done preparation made life so much easier!  So it's a principle I love, I just need to work harder.
• Fresh pumpkin pie.  It's gonna happen this year!
• The weather.  Fog, crisp breezes, warm days, cool nights.
• Animals preparing for winter and thus out and about in search of food, like apples in my orchard.
• Orion.  I have this weird obsession with the constellation of Orion, perhaps because when I was younger, it was so easy to pick out.   Then I fell in love with archery.  Whatever it is, every year I watch for the return of Orion and revel in his presence in the sky.

So a happy, healthy, hearty Equinox to you all!  <3

The Wise Woman Tradition Loves Rough

From Susan S. Weed's Healing Wise:

Just as receptive power seems a contradiction in terms to some, so too does rough love.  Compassion, forgiveness, and unconditional love evoke a sense of squishy soft acceptance to many.  In the Wise Woman tradition, love is rough, real, truthful, and unattached to outcome.  In the Wise Woman tradition, love says "no" as often as it says "yes."


The Wise Woman tradition sees compassion as passionate.  Passion shared is compassion.  Passion is rough; passion is wild.  Screams and shouts and tears and touches are part of living with passion, being com/passionate in the Wise Woman way.


Forgiveness is focused on self, in the Wise Woman way, and believe me, that can rough.  Forgive yourself for being hurt, for suffering, and love yourself enough to tell yourself the truth about it.  Is it time to say "no"?

In the Wise Woman tradition, forgiving ourselves opens our vision to our limits, to our cramped spaces, to our self-inflicted prisons.  Keen-sighted from the truth, we see how to free ourselves by setting boundaries that truly protect our fragile aspects yet are moveable, permeable to nourishment, so we receive the intimacy we desire.  Saying "no" leads to unconditional love.

Unconditional love that nourishes the inner being does not tolerate abuse, ugliness, lies.  Unconditional self-love brings self-respect and demands it of others.  Unconditional self-love knows that it is unloving of anyone, self or other, to allow abuse to continue, no matter their age or circumstances.  Loving ourselves unconditionally strengthens our power to say "no" when our heart knows that beauty and the truth are not present.


The wise woman understands that, for most of us, saying "no" is hard to do.  We're afraid that if we say "no," we won't get enough love.  Or worse yet, we won't be allowed to give our love away, and we need to give our love away so we can expect to get love from others.  The wise woman understands that we expect love to come from outside, not inside.  She knows that this expectation, this assumption, this hope--that love comes from outside--prevents us from speaking our truth when our heart demands that we say "no."


Loving ourselves, generating love from inside, not trying to get it from outside, that is the Wise Woman way, a way that allows "no" to reveal its loving nature.


Become aware of how often you do the expected thing, the good thing, the right thing, says the Wise Woman helper, and acknowledge the part of yourself that is a liar, that is afraid to say "no."


Truth and unconditional love support each other.  To love yourself unconditionally, you must tell yourself the truth.  You cannot hear your own truth if you are lying to others.  Begin to tell the truth in the smallest thing.  This brings you wholeness.  Tell the truth often and you will be filled with beauty.  You will have health.  You with walk the beauty way of health/wholeness/holiness.  Your truth will bless all you encounter.  You will be blessed.  Do not be afraid to reveal your own uniqueness, for that is part of your blessing.