Reposted from TransAction by annieli
I has a Christmas sad. When I got home from last night's family celebration of the holiday, I logged on and encountered the following all too familiar story.
It is hard enough for someone to learn how to deal with being transgender, but when it is conflicted with other mental health issues, it makes it so much more difficult.
Jay Ralko was a 22-year-old bipolar transman who went missing on December 10 from his home in Warren, MI.
The night he went missing, he left a note asking his roommate to watch his dog while he tended to an emergency. Then he left in his gray Ford Escape.
I believe he’s ill, my gut feeling tells me that he’s in a hospital somewhere and I’m praying that he is. We have a detective involved — he’s been to his workplace, questioning at the workplace. He’s called hospitals, we’ve called hospitals, we’ve been to hospitals. We’ve been to places that he’d been before — parks — anywhere we can think of that he’s been.
--Sherri Amorello, Jay's mother, on December 20
Since his disappearance, there had been “no record on his phone, no record on his bank statements, no record on his Blue Cross Card,” according to his mother, Sherri Amorello.
This did not end well.
Reposted from newpioneer by Dave in Northridge
Fireflies, and so much gratitude.
My Love Catcher Quilt from Sara and Ann arrived, and my heart was eased in so many ways. I'd been feeling better lately, but grief can be a tricky thing.
Reposted from commonmass by annieli
It's been rainy here in Maine, on and off, but I have been giving some love to our memorial garden, where both my beloved grandmother, "Nagga" and the true love of my life, Terun Sabre Weed (aka GreenMountainBoy02) rest in peace.
It's tough to tend his resting place. It sucks, frankly. It's lonely. It's outside in my dooryard.
I mention this because it was just a couple of years ago when we got engaged in real time on Daily Kos.
I miss Terun. I really do. Losing him has freaked me up a bit but it does get better.
I miss my little Green Mountain Boy (and he was little: like 5 foot 5), but he was also a descendant of Tyendenaga Mohawk fame (Joseph Brant was raised to the third degree of Freemasonry personally by King George III) and I was always in awe of his heritage.
Messing around in the garden today, the one which has his ashes, has me thinking: He was the most amazing man I ever knew and he promised me that he would be with me for the rest of his life, and he was with me the whole time.
After he died, I had some time with his body. It was still warm. I loved him so much, but he was gone. I am so glad that I was there when he was alert enough to tell the doctors that he wanted to go to Hospice and let me crawl into his hospital bed with him when he made the decision and let him hold me. I've never loved anyone like that.
He's buried in my dooryard. I see him every day. He was only 48. He was the love of my life, and I try to keep that dooryard groomed, because he is buried there.
Terun with Geoffrey the Cat. Terun, I miss you sweetcakes.
Reposted from Dave in Northridge by Dave in Northridge
You might have noticed that every so often I make a few comments that call out some of the more valued members of the Kos community in a fairly out-of-character way for me. It's not "every so often;" it's specifically on the 5th of the month. Predictable, yet I forget because, well, time has passed as I try to make believe that the loss of my husband hasn't left a major hole in my life.
Why the 5th? You might remember I wrote this diary on December 5, 2012. Yes, nineteen months ago today. I honestly don't know why I haven't developed the habit of looking at the calendar each month and reminding myself "Do not make comments that have ANY meta connotations today."
So this is a specific apology to navajo and to grannycarol for my petulance and out-of-sortsness in two comments I made today. I promise I'll make more of an effort to police myself at the beginning of the month from now on. But this is another indication of how bereavement works for anyone who has suffered a significant loss as I did.
I can do better.
Reposted from commonmass by commonmass
Today would be Terun's and my third anniversary and second as a married couple. It would also be his 50th birthday. I am glad I am here at The Rock, sitting just feet from the memorial garden where his ashes were scattered (along with some of those of my grandmother's). Terun loved this place, which was quite fortuitous because I happen to love it too and spend a lot of time here.
I'll offer some thoughts on loss and spirituality after the break, but first a word from the Brothers and Sisters Diary Group:
Welcome to Brothers and Sisters, the weekly meetup for prayer* and community at Daily Kos. We put an asterisk on pray* to acknowledge that not everyone uses conventional religious language, but may want to share joys and concerns, or simply take solace in a meditative atmosphere. Anyone who comes in the spirit of mutual respect, warmth and healing is welcome.
Follow me over the orange cloud of incense for more...
Reposted from commonmass by Dave in Northridge
I'm kind of persona non grata these days up here in Northern New England. I don't mind. I mean, if people are really your friends, they are really your friends.
I'm not sure any of them were. Some of them have never experienced the love of their lives, and some of them live in a state of quiet desperation.
But I have one friend. He's not alive anymore, but he was the love of my life. His name was Terun, and he was a Kossack, and here he is:
When I was awash in grief, for his loss, I was abandoned by my friends who showed up for a funeral and even gave money for a planting which I still have yet to get around to (I live on an island). I said horrible things to people. To people who like to gossip. To people I love, and hoped to have an ongoing relationship with. They abandoned me. To a one.
I wish I could be as strong as my neighbors who have also experienced loss. Though what I have learned is that they have never lost the love of their lives. Most of them remain single or miserable.
I won't be at Pride this year because it would be my anniversary (and GreenMountainBoy02 and I were actually married) and it would be his birthday.
I won't be with the people I thought were my friends because they are happy to not have me around.
What a community, indeed.