Tears and Shit

I was going to write about my mom's continued decline with Alzheimer's, death and my knee this morning. Instead of settling down to work, I cruised through Facebook. I saw a post from my dad where he took a picture last night from his walk about Antrim Lake. I am glad he got outside and spent sometime in nature.

Sometimes when life is hard, we keep a stiff upper lip. Then, something from out of the blue will throw us for a loop.* As I was flipping through Facebook, I came across a friend Alex who posted a story about her daughter trying out for a boys' soccer team. Her daughter plays in the same soccer club as my son, and the club let her daughter play with the boys. I've known this woman for a few years through various committees. I am not that close with Alex, but I started to cry when I scrolled through her old photos and saw her daughter getting her long blond hair cut into a "short sporty boy cut." Based on the posts, I am guessing Alex's daughter is going through a gender identity transition. I had no idea. Here she is, posting pictures and stories about her daughter in such as warm and supportive way.

The whole thing brought me to tears, and I don't know why. I think I have been keeping it all together with my mom and dad, this story broke the dam.

I was at lunch this week with a friend and she said, "I didn't get a chance to tell you about my shit."

"What is your shit?" I asked, sincerely wanting to know.

We all have our shit in our lives and at times we have more than others. By shit I mean those I challenges that require deep thought, great problem solving skills and patience. Maybe shit means accepting hard things we don't want to accept, like death of a loved one or suffering through an incurable illness. Maybe it is an inner struggle about choices we've made in our lives, or changes with family and circumstances. I wouldn't say having a child go through gender identity issues is "shit" (as that could be considered unkind), but rather it would be something that would have to be navigated with grace and sensitivity. There would likely be shit involved, like watching your child get bullied or harassed. Alex's daughter is lucky to live in Seattle where there is a high level of acceptance for differences. Alex is also lucky to have a mom who support her and has her back. I imagine Alex going to the soccer club leadership with her daughter and asking them if she could tryout for the boys team. My mom once told me quote from Greg Louganis, the Olympic diver. Someone asked him how he stands the pressure of having to make a perfect dive each time.

"I think 'My mom will love me no matter what happens,'" he said. It reminded me of Alex.

Reading about Alex's daughter pulled me out of my own shit, even if just for a bit. I am not super religious, but I pray that Alex and her daughter find peace, strength and courage as they go through their journeys. I guess that is what I also hope for myself and my family as my mother faces death.


* Sorry about the grossly cliched sentences. Once I got started, I couldn't stop.