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February 11, 2012


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Sorry -- my mom is NOT out of the emergency room yet. She is still there, but was able to talk to my sister via my dad's cell phone.

I'll keep you all posted. I hope this is okay. I need some place safe to express myself.

Unbelievably, I have a speech due for TRM in about three hours. I have no idea how to do it except to soldier on.

I'm playing Arvo Part's, "Alina". PEACEsista and babysis and Sista C and Matissta are familiar with this lovely piece/peace of music.


Of course, you have my prayers. In addition to prayers for your mother's physical well-being, my prayers are that, during this time, you and your family may find yet another small measure of emotional and spiritual healing from all the years of unresolved family issues. Hugs, friend.

PS - And prayers that the words for the speech just come to mind so very quickly.


Thanks, treesta -- the last thing I want to be doing is working on this speech, but it is keeping me occupied.


Flann, my heart is with you. The demand to write the speech stands as an example of the insistent, persistent flow of life, I suppose ... which does not ever stop, mighty river that it is, flowing in and around our worries, griefs, sorrows, joys and celebrations as if they were only boulders in the path.

Maybe this will be the best speech you've ever written. Maybe not.

My thoughts and prayers are with you and your family. Breathe.


Yes, Flann, soldier on in peace. There is nothing more you can or should do. Prayers abound.


Thank you, all.

The image of life as a mighty river is a powerful one, PEACEsista. I'm floating along as best I can in my little boat -- big enough to fit all of you.

I'm about a third done with the speech. Remember how I signed that TRM contract while holding my nose? That's how I'm writing this speech. I see my fingers pecking away at the keyboard, but I have absolutely no investment in what I am doing. I just want to get it out of here.

Listening to sacred choral music right now.

I appreciate being reminded that there is nothing more I can or should do, babysis. Why does a simple statement like that mean so much to me right now?


Flann, my thoughts are with you now.


Yes babysis is right. There is nothing you can do at this time to change or help the situation.

I think it's good to have a speech to occupy you at this time. Knowing you, you will still do the best you can because you always do. No matter what's going on in your life.


And as always, the 'sphere is behind you and understands. Share as much or a little as you want.


Thank you. I just laid down on my bed for a minute. I was feeling dizzy -- not literally -- but because so many childhood memories are popping up, even though I think my mother will pull through.

The biggest realization is this (even though I cognitively know this): my mother will never come to my home. My mother has never come to my home. When I left her home just after turning 17, she never came to any home of mine. She never will. She has only really consistently seen me as her daughter in her house.

Why can't I get over that?


Should that be "lay down" on my bed and not "laid down"?

Why do I frickin' care right now? Maybe because if I can get the correct grammar, my mom will be okay?

Weird what you think when you're feeling more helpless than you'd like to feel.


You can't get over that because, like all women, we spend our lives craving the acceptance and unconditional love of our mothers. And if we didn't get it as children, we spend our adult lives chasing it, and blame ourselves for not receiving it until, hopefully, we learn to forgive her and in the process, ourselves.

Your mother's inability to come to your home is a result of her woundedness. Her woundedness. Hers.

A good friend of mine says, "You are worthy of love. Why? Because you are breathing. Are you breathing? You are worthy of love." And you are. The little girl in those memories is. Just like the kids at school, my friend.

Love and hugs. Breathe today. Breathe deeply. And repeat those words, "I am worthy of love."


Thank you, treesta.


Ain't your friends the best, Flann? May not make up for your mom, but we're trying.


babysis, I would say that without a doubt friends can be trying. (Just a little attempt at humor.)

Flann, that's a powerful realization to feel, not just grasp intellectually.

Perhaps your mother can't see you (or any of your sisters) outside a place where she maintained such control over your lives. To see children among their friends and loved ones and to realize they no longer depend on you is difficult.

Perhaps the sweetest thing my mother every said to me after meeting about 10 of my gay and lesbian friends was, "They love you. I see that now." That was hard for her to say coming from her background, but she meant it.

We all know the grief of people we love never knowing who we are. We're with you on this one too.


I'm thinking of you, Flann, and caring about you. You get knocked to your knees and you get up. And the river keeps on flowing. (thanks PEACE).


Thank you, babysis, half-a and Justista.

Thanks for being with me.

Just got off the phone with Lovasista. My mother has been admitted to the hospital. Doctors are running tests. No official diagnosis. She has a concussion from her head injury (from falling when she passed out). My dad thinks she will be able to go home tomorrow. Lovasista said, "This is wishful thinking."

Thanks for hanging in there with me.

Almost finished with TRM's speech. I have to admit the ending is pretty good, but it's about others and not him, so he'll edit that out for sure.


In the category of I can't make up this shit:

I just finished that damn TRM speech and called his vacation home in North Carolina to tell him it was on the way.

TRM: Oh good. How are you?

FLANN: My mother had a heart attack.

TRM: Oh yeah. [Name of wife] said something about that earlier. How is she?

FLANN: She's alive.

TRM: Oh good, because this is an important speech. I'll try not to bother you, but I'll probably call upon you. You know, we hosted many scholars here from the University of Virginia for a couple of days and I listened to them intently because I know that I have to be the translator of their wisdom to others who don't understand it any other way except the way I'm able to process and synthesize it . . .

FLANN: [Setting the phone down and flipping the bird]

TRM: [Still yammering] . . . we are in the Conceptual age after all and the people need someone who can put all of this into its proper context . . .

FLANN: [finally interrupting] Listen, I gotta go -- keep the phone line open for my family.

TRM: I'm be praying for your mom.

FLANN: Thank you.

TRM: I'll try not to call you but probably will because I'll need your help.



Vital metrics = mean man who wants everyone to think he's a big grown-up. Yep. They pegged him.


Just responded to an email from babysis outside the 'sphere in which I wrote: "TRM officially became unfathomable to me today. Why today? Who the hell knows? I honestly just don't get him anymore."


Flann, he's always been this way, oui?

He believes he knows it all, thus has no where to grow.

Maybe you've outgrown him, n'est-ce pas?


If the last words in your question translate to "Fuck him" -- yes.

But then again, TRM is the Great Translator.


Flann, it is not the worst thing for someone to need your help, even TRM. The timing is bad, but as treesta said, his behavior is consistent with what it always has been. Maddening, yes. But, try not to let it elevate YOUR blood pressure. It is not worth the price of your health.

Remember, he is praying for your mom. Even though he annoys you, that is still one good thing.

Breathe ... deeply.


PS: I'm glad that you have finished the speech AND I hope that he will not need your further help. Breathe.


To process my TRM annoyance -- a very tepid term, "maddening" is closer to what he is -- I am cleaning the litter box and toilet.

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