The Lesbian Chronicles 17: Menemsha

 

darling :
long have i waited
for you
to arrive.

truthfully my love
there were times
days months years
when i thought you would never be

here
yet here you are
bones and pulse and skin
no longer a figment
a fragment
a fervent wish.
slowly ever so slowly –

the depth of your devotion
forces me to acknowledge
that i am deserving of kindness
and a place in this world.

 

gazing into your
ocean grey eyes
memories of
menemsha in the winter
the two of us
warmth against the cold.

 

surrendering to the pleasure
losing myself
in the depth
in the deep of you
feeling joined in a way
i have never before felt
my own unified theory.

i breath you in
resting my head
on your welcome chest
knowing you will always be
a heart without question
someone to watch over
me.

 

katharine angelina love

 

 

The Lesbian Chronicles 16: Me, Myself and Louise

 

I sang a duet today with the actress/singer Louise Pitre. Okay, it wasn’t actually a duet, Louise and I sang side by side along with 600 other people today at the Metropolitan Community Church Toronto Easter service. Together we sang my two favourite hymns, ‘Peace Like a River’ and ‘Amazing Grace’ and it was; actually amazing.

This morning I woke up feeling fractured and fragile due to a loss of heartwrenching porportions, which added to my already bottomless pit of sadness at being left once again as Gilbert O’Sullivan sang ‘Alone Again, Naturally’.

But, it was a sunny day and just maybe, going to church would make me feel better, even though I would have to go alone due to my passive aggresive ex – partner’s last minute parry. Perhaps, I could try to make my way to Simpson Street to pray.

As I was driving down to church, I called (hands – free, of course!) my friend Nelson, hoping for some of his zen-ness to rub off on me. I was sharing with Nelson the dearth of kindness I have been feeling in my life lately. Nelson said “Katharine, if you want kindness to find you, you must be kind.” Simple words, I know, but for some reason they resonated with me today.

I have always responded to the lack of kindness and generosity generated by my family, by acting the same way in return. My sister is mean to me? I will be mean right back at her, and put at little more oomph in it, because that’s  just how I roll. Now I can see my responses created short term gains  and long term losses. I can not afford to be that person anymore. I need to be kindness and let kindness pop out of me like movie popcorn does at the movie theatre.

Due to my dallying, I got to church quite late and could not find parking. I drove around in circles five or six times looking for a spot, thinking that perhaps that this was a sign that I should just call it a day and go home, or more truthfully, go to my friend McDonalds, because nothing says pitiful more than eating chicken mcnuggets on EasterSunday.

Somehow I found a semi legal parking spot and slowly walked the seventeen blocks back to the church. I got there way into the service and was just going to sit in one of the chairs in the back when one of the church helpers told me that there was a seat down near the band, which is how I happened to sit next to the lovely Louise.

As karma would have it, Brent talked about the same thing that Nelson had shared with me .  Brent said “So many people  are always looking outside themselves for love, searching searching searching for love but not realizing that the way to love is being love.” Hmmm , I am a big believer in signs and this one was a big yellow neon one, pointing the
fickle finger of fate back at me. I must stop searching for someone to love me, and extend myself to others in love.

Corinthians 13:4-7

Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. It does not dishonour others, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres.

The Lesbian Chronicles 15: Gucci Love

 

 

One year ago today I took my dog, the Mighty Gu to the vet for what I thought was a digestive issue. Sadly, it turned out that the Gu had a developed a sudden, serious heart condition. The soft spoken Dr. Davidson spent almost an hour with me talking about the nature of her heart issues and how this diagnosis will affect the Gu’s quality of life. In a nutshell, Gu’s heart was filling up with fluids and she had at best a few more days to live. I was shocked , because Gucci had gone almost overnight from being one of the most animated delicious dogs into one that just wanted to sleep on her bed.

 So I made the difficult decision to put her down, as the doctor suggested.   The Gu had many adventures in her lifetime; she was in a Shad video, she almost drowned in a river in Stowe, Vermont. I will never forget my shouting to the Gu, “Gucci , you can make it! Just keep climbing !” She has made literally thousands of women , men and children smile and squeal with the pure delight of her radiant presence.

Some people are afraid to own a pet because of the inevitable pain of their death, but for me, I would never trade my  grief for a Gu-less life. She was very sickly when I first rescued her and Dr. D was not certain she would make it,  but I knew that this dog was a fighter and not only was she going to make it ,but she was going to have the best doggie life possible. And for  almost nine years, she did.

I know that Gucci is now with St. Francis and they are playing Frisbee together, Francis furtively feeding the Mighty Gu some liver from his secret stash deep inside his robes.

Gucci Love, I thank you for opening my heart  and teaching me about the true meaning of unconditional love. Our souls will always be together, I in this world ; you in the other; until we are reunited again.

 

 

 

What do you say, Percy? I am thinking
of sitting out on the sand to watch
the moon rise. It’s full tonight.
So we go

and the moon rises, so beautiful it
makes me shudder, makes me think about
time and space, makes me take
measure of myself: one iota
pondering heaven. Thus we sit, myself

thinking how grateful I am for the moon’s
perfect beauty and also, oh! how rich
it is to love the world. Percy, meanwhile,
leans against me and gazes up
into my face. As though I were just as wonderful
as the perfect moon.

“The Sweetness of Dogs”  Mary Oliver

 

 

 

The Lesbian Chronicles 14 : Present and Accounted For.

 

I just got back from an all too brief vacation in Nassau where upon our return to Toronto, the carrousel that was supposed to bring our luggage had temporarily broken down. While waiting for our luggage to re-appear, I reflected on a time not that long ago, where I felt invisible.

Whenever I was on a crowded street or in a busy airport, people would literally bump into me. Always. I never understood this phenomena and chalked it up to being of short stature.

A few years earlier I was in this very same airport with my girlfriend Jane. We were coming back from a vacation in Sedona, Arizona. We climbed the red rock buttes and went deep into pine forests where, if there is a God, this is where she lives.

While we were waiting for our luggage to arrive, a man bumped into me, apologizing profusely, stating he didn’t ‘see’ me. Jane, who knows her place in this world; as she comes from a mother who eyes light up every time Jane walks into the room; was perplexed that this man could not see that I was standing right in front of him. I explained to Jane that this had happened to me all my life, and I was ‘used’ to it.

Jane then took my hand and looked into my eyes with her signature penetrating stare and said “Katharine, you must say to yourself, this is my space, and it is okay for me to occupy space in this world. If you do this, I guarantee no one will bump into you again.”

I felt her words echo throughout my body. I got it. It was okay, actually it was more then just okay, it was my responsibility to myself; and even more importantly; to the little unmoored unmothered one that lives inside my heart.

When my daughter Victoria was going through a difficult time during high school, her guidance counsellor, the radiant Ms. Lippes, told me that Vicky was working her way through the two questions that every child asks themselves:

1.Who am I ?

2.Where do I fit in?

I now have my own answers to those two important life questions:

1. I am Katharine Angelina Love.

2. I must bring all of my big beautiful broken badass self here to this earth, because here, is where I belong and right here, is where I fit in.

I breathe, therefore I am.

 

 

Searching for Goodness

Lately I have been searching for goodness. Not looking through rose colored glasses as before, as that distorted my true and clear vision, but by simply honoring the good that has already made a soft landing in my life.

This can be as simple as appreciating a doggie kiss from my circus puppy Lucille, or as complex as excavating the beauty from the abyss of my relationship with  my ex- partner Jane.

Last night I had a wonderful dream.  I was sitting in a light filled room when a beautiful woman who resembled Julie Andrews came into the room and sat down next to me. She took my hand and for the first time in my life, I felt complete.  She spoke to me in her beautiful British accent:

“Just allow the healing in Katharine, allow the healing to flow through you.” I woke up soon after and just lay in my bed, letting my thirsty soul drink in her words.

 Due to the many circumstances of trauma in my life, I felt the need to keep my heart closed. Now a year into my sobriety, I will try my best to allow my heart to open into: healing, beauty and goodness.

I am making Allow in the Good  my new mission statement, so that when I feel triggered I will remind myself to:

1.  Take three deep healing breaths.

 2. Soften my heart and trust in my own innate worth- ability.

 3. Try to search for the good in every situation – even if I need to use my shovel to find the gift hidden in the morass.

I now raise my glass of O.J in a toast to the beautiful day as I eagerly await the nine o’clock hour so I can watch the finale of Scandal, Go Olivia, Go!

The Lesbian Chronicles 12: Choices

 

Ever since I was a child, I have had difficulty with choice and choosing.

The small town where my family had a summer cottage had a Five and Dime. Every Saturday, all of us grandkids would traipse up to Main Street with our Zaidy (Yiddish word for grandfather). Zaidy gave each of us a nickel for candy; this was enough for each of us to get a small bag full of blackballs, Lik-M-Aid, Bazooka Joe bubble gum and my personal favourite , strawberry marshmallows.

While the rest of my cousins were already happily eating their treats, I was still standing by the counter deciding; because if I bought the marshmallows, I might miss out on the Pink Elephant popcorn  where you got a prize with every box, but if I did buy the popcorn maybe I wouldn’t get the prize I wanted, the coveted ‘diamond’ ring ( because even as a child, I was into bling!) , and my choice would be for nought. I would just stare  and stand motionless in front of the counter until my Zaidy, in his heavily accented English would say  “Choose! We are leaving right now!” I chose but not without major angst.

Press fast forward on your eight track  (remember those?) and jump ahead twenty years.

I  had just moved into my first apartment. My building housed mostly twenty something’s, and almost every weekend a party was held. Inevitably I would meet a ‘good’ boy, and his ‘bad’ boy cohort. I would start out talking to the good boy, but always left with the bad one. After a few disastrous dates with Mr. Bad  I would chastise myself for choosing the wrong man. I would then try to date the ‘healthy’ one, but healthy held no lasting appeal.

In my thirties when I awoke to my true sexual nature, I chose to date women instead of men. While this discovery changed my life in many way for the better, my pattern of choosing the bad broken birdie remained.  Intellectually I understood that I should not be choosing the bad and the broken, but the happy and healthy held no psychic attraction for me.  Why was this the case?

I was brought up in a family where drama and pretense reigned supreme. When I tried to bring them my truth, they banished me, but not before attacking me both physically and emotionally.  So I have until now, chosen women with whom I can repeat my family story with. In other words: I choose women who are in the story/ the lie/ the drama, so that when I try to bring them into their truth, they will respond by punishing me, and then banishing me. I used to call this foreplay, but now I just call it painful.

Full disclosure here; just yesterday morning I called my mother looking for some solace (I know!!!) and when I was rebuffed and dismissed and set up again, I made the executive decision to not let my own little broken birdie be in charge of phone calls to my mother. I, the adult Katharine is going to hold my little birdie tight until she no longer needs to choose pain over pleasure, ever again.

If I can somehow disconnect from my matrilineal pain centre, and rebuild healthy pathways to women, then I  will have found a way to share my truth and be able to choose a healthy and happy woman to co-create a wonderful life together.

In the words of ‘ The Little Engine that Could’; ” I think I can, I think I can”!