Sordid Lives

Sarah and I went to see the local theater company's production of the play, Sordid Lives. The following is a synopsis is from Turner Classic Movie website:

The bizarre death of Peggy Ingraham, the matriarch of a working-class Texas family, sets off fireworks within her dysfunctional family. Her determinedly proper daughter Latrelle is in denial over the fact that her son Ty, an actor trying to make it in Hollywood, is gay, and is relieved that her only brother, a gay drag queen and dedicated Tammy Wynette impersonator, has been confined to a mental institution for 23 years simply because he is gay. Latrelle's brassy sister LaVonda, however, thinks her brother should be released from the institution and has a perfect right to attend their mother's funeral. Meanwhile, Ty, who has strived hard to accept his homosexuality, realizes that there is no way he can return home for his grandmother's funeral without coming out to his mother.

Sordid Lives was the funniest play that Sarah and I have seen. We screamed with laughter. We kept hitting each other on the arm. Since I was reared in the deep south in a Southern Baptist family, there were many scenes that reminded me of things from my past. A theme in the play was two sisters in a disagreement trying to get their poor old aunt to take sides. Ain't that one we've all been in before.

One of the funniest incidents was one of the characters looking at the flowers for Peggy's funeral and remarking about a telephone being part of the floral display. No lie. I have actually seen this before. A friend was telling me once about seeing a phone floral wreath when attending the visitation in a funeral home and not understanding the meaning. When someone in her group explained to her it meant the recently deceased had gotten "the call." It still took a while before she finally understood that the recently deceased had gotten "the call" from the Lord to come home (aka dying). About the time the meaning became clear to her, a phone near her in the funeral home rang. Someone told my friend to answer the phone. She said, "no way in hell." Honestly, this is a true story.

The characters in the play were wonderful. The actors performance was masterful. Juanita, the female bar fly alcoholic, in the play was hysterical. Her one liners were delivered perfectly. I'm sure that many of us in the audience has seen a Juanita in a bar some where around from time to time.

We all have these characters in our families and groups of friends OR we may be one. As we were leaving, I said to Sarah, I feel like I have been home for a funeral. The only thing we didn't have was a transvestite!!" Then I said, "until now............now we have a family member who is transgender."

The prejudices of our society may cause individuals to hide or deny who they are. As the play so skillfully demonstrated, hiding who one is destructive for the individual and those helping to hide the secret. I believe that the hilarity of play gave an opportunity to examine prejudices in a kinder more loving light.

Missing Friends

Missing Friends

Friends, lost when they moved.

Leaving empty places in the heart,

Tears shed, weeping uncontrolled.

Aching for missing hands,

Longing for someone’s touch.

Most precious lives

Intertwined by love

Kindred souls lost to fate.

Hearts ache for missing friends

Walls encircle one’s heart

Keeps friendships at arm’s length.

Keeps one’s heart from

Connecting with another.

Keeps new friends out

Keeps pain in.

Either way the heart loses,

Aching for missing friends.

SJ Riggle

December 15, 2001

How ironic could a poem be anyway? Reading this now, today, at a time when good friends have taken a new step for their family is painful. We’ve lost our pastor today, his final service for our church. Some people are angry that he is leaving us without pastoral care, again; but we have survived other times without a pastor and we will carry on with the care and feeding of our church members as we have in the past.

But this pastor, this vicar (Episcopal Church) has changed our lives, and changed the lives for the good of the whole church. He has finally lain to rest an argument that involved where someone could pee; and for that I am eternally grateful. His moral maturity was way beyond his age. And he stood up to the bigots, because it was the right thing to do.

For this family to have been a part of me for so short of time and to have had such a life changing impact leaves me aching. I have finally learned that letting someone occupy a piece of your heart is taking a risk, but it is a risk we all must take to be a part of the human race. For by not risking loving someone we cannot say that we have loved.

So thank you “B”, “E”, and “AJ” for coming into my life and sharing yourselves with one of the “Church Auntees”.

Heeeeeeey Ladies

"Hey ladies" is a greeting Sarah and I are hearing more and more these days. It is a welcome greeting and frequently it is to stop and chat or to give us a helpful tidbit of information. We were at Belk's this afternoon and one of sales associates gave the familiar call, "hey ladies." She had stopped us to give us a hint that a better sale deal would be going on in an hour. We thanked her and did a little unplanned shopping. Who can pass up 50% off with another 50% off!

When Sarah and I first began our relationship, our hope was that we would just be seen as two crazy little ole ladies that were accepted and maybe even loved by some. With each "hey ladies," it seems that our original hope is being realized.

Transgender and Crying

Why am I crying so hard; I am not used to these emotional meltdowns! Making friends with the people who come into your life is very difficult when they leave suddenly. Not showing emotions is very different to letting tears run down one’s cheek in bucketfuls than the stifled tears of a young boy. “Boys don’t cry!”, “suck it up!” , “quit your crying ya sissy!” I heard these and plenty more growing up. Friendships or emotional attachments were calamities that my sisters experienced when we packed up and moved away from their friends; but not for me and we moved so many times. I can’t remember any of my school chums because I never would allow myself to get close with anyone. So I don’t remember peoples faces just blurs of my fellow students; too formal for me.

Is this emotional mess what you get when you have cared for someone so much, is this love? Since I transitioned and began to reach out to people emotionally I have had crying fits when I have ‘lost’ someone who I have grown to love. The breaking of my first emotional connections was actually for my hair stylist who helped me overcome my hair problems as I started to transition. She was with me from the first days I started going out as Sarah until I was Sarah. She moved away just when I was most comfortable with her as my stylist.

My second broken connections are more accurately described as having her ripped from my heart. We have made strong friendship with a couple who became foster parents with the possibility of adopting later. After having four different children temporally placed with them they were given two babies to care for which would have been the ones they wanted to adopt. At the critical age of about 18 months their baby girl was to be removed on the day they went to court to file for adoption. Kay and I were like her aunties to her and had become very involved with both of their children. My heart broke when I learned that she was to be taken away in less than 3 hours. Watching her play, and laugh, and grow as she was holding on to a large part of my heart during those 18 months.

Now it’s happened again to me, it’s amazing how quickly we become enchanted with a child and how quickly they have you wrapped around their finger. Our vicar told the church members that they would be leaving at the end of the month. Kay and I have been given the privilege of being asked to do things for them.

Their daughter is just turning one year old and we have many pleasant memories of holding her and playing with her and feeding her and watching her grow. I didn’t realize how much I will miss the family and their young daughter until I realized that I wouldn’t get to hold her next month. We had the chance to watch her today while her parents spent the afternoon packing up their belongings; and she was so good, such smiles and ‘talking’ and some fussing. Fussing comes with the baby sitting. Thank you Mom and Dad for the last chance to watch and play with AJ. My memories of her first year with us will be linked and clouded by the shower of tears that I cried this afternoon.

Now that I am Sarah and Sarah is me, the tears of the transgender are the healers of the rips in our emotional veils. I don’t look forward to these emotional outbursts but I do embrace them so.

Convocation Meeting

Sarah and I attended a church meeting out of town on Sunday. The meeting was being held to discuss the upcoming election of the bishop of our diocese. Church meeting are always so (hmmm) interesting. There was a diverse group of people there.......from staunch conservatives to ultra liberals. People seemed a little ill at ease at the beginning of the meeting. I would guess that the diversity of opinions and not really knowing who held what opinion would make some a people a little hesitant but not everyone.

The two most memorable characters there were an older gentleman who loudly proclaimed a very orthodox position and the "crazy uncle at the family reunion" character. In my opinion, the Crazy Uncle provided the most comic relief. As the leader began to explain the process the search committee was using, there were questions about why background checks were being done. The leader responded that they had talked with a number of dioceses and that because of the experience of one diocese in electing a bishop whose background later turned out to cause some problems after his election, the decision had been made to do background checks on all individuals being considered for nomination. The Crazy Uncle declared in a loud voice, "it was because he was a "pee dee oo file." There were looks of horror. The leader said that was not the case and quickly moved on. Of course, the CU now has everyone's attention. I guess most people (me included) were wondering whether CU may or may not be violent.

The older gentleman expounds at times that things are fine like they are (very conservative). He opines that his male friends are leaving the church because of all the changes, especially, having women as priests and in leadership positions. That really hit a nerve with me. You would be proud, I did not disrupt the meeting. However, I did lean over to a man sitting next to me and whispered, as old as he is his friends aren't leaving because of women priests. His friends are leaving in coffins!

As the meeting goes on, the CU wanders around the room from time to time and stands or sits next to people and gives the people intense looks. One of the women in the group was addressing the group using a microphone and CU goes and stands directly beside her (he would have been violating my personal space limits) and looks her up and down.

THEN the older gentleman said something that made my head spin around like the possessed girl in the movie, The Exorcist. I'm not sure what his complete statement was now but I heard the phrase "socialist, marxist Jesus. I had read a blog earlier in the week that used the phrase, a "proto marxist hippie Jesus" that had been disturbing me for a couple of days. I did not respond in the meeting but after I got home I did some thinking, some reading and then some writing. Writing helps me get out some of my frustrations so this is my response to the blog commenter and to our older gentleman:

The comment about Jesus being a "counterculture proto-marxist hippie" has disturbed me for days. I had finally put the phrase aside and moved on...........until yesterday. We attended a "listening meeting" that is part of the process for our diocese in selecting a new bishop.

There were a number of very conservative people in the group. One of questions we were asked to discuss was our vision of the church in ten years. It became obvious that one rather older conservative gentleman thought there should be no changes. Everything needed to stay just the same as it is right now. As he expounded on his "maintain things as they are" position and then the phrase "socialist marxist Jesus" came out.

Marxist is a term that strikes fear into most people because they know very little about it except that maybe it is associated with Communism which, of course, it is.

I looked up "Marxism" when I got home and the information is quite extensive. I do not have the knowledge to discuss marxism intelligently (nor do I believe that the gentleman in the meeting using the the phrase about marxism has an extensive knowledge either). What I do believe is that many individuals who use these phrases do so with the intent of causing fear and stopping conversation. As demonstrated yesterday in our group, the marxist comment did indeed cause discomfort in the group and stymie conversation for a while.

Now that I have settled why the marxist comment has made me so uncomfortable. I have come to another conclusion.

I am not a Bibical scholar and certainly cannot debate theology extensively but I do not see Jesus acting as part of the "establishment" of his day. He was different in that he sought out those who were different, those who were shunned by the establishment of his day. It is also obvious that his actions made the people who were attempting to maintain the status quo pretty uncomfortable while the disenfranchised of his day flocked to him.

So rather than labeling the actions of Jesus, if we describe his actions, maybe we can come closer to a conversation in which we can all participate and move a little closer to that "beloved community."

Having written my frustrations out, I realize that we all have our place at the table. The older gentleman has his place, CU has his place and even I have my place. We each have opportunities to act as Christ to other people no matter what our individual theological beliefs we hold.

Transgender with Breast Cancer

Yesterday I met a good friend (I hope that I am) at a church meeting who I will only name as “M”. I have known that she is and has been battling cancer for a few years and is on her way to a good recovery; anyway she looked real good yesterday. I had met her a few months ago in the Cancer Clinic while we were both waiting for treatments; I believe she was there for her chemo and I only had to get an injection. As I have said my lump was small enough that I would not be doing radiation or chemo but only would have to take tamoxifen; and the shot was for something else. As we were just chatting about how we were doing, I started talking about the prosthesis’ that I had and where I had bought them, but she was quite insistent that she would be doing breast reconstruction after her double mastectomy; which make me begin to rethink about my options.

Anyway I learned that she has been going to one of the surgeons in town for her reconstruction and was describing the high levels of pain and discomfort she was experiencing from her tissue expanders. How she was having so much pressure on the chest wall and it was affecting her comfort levels for breaths. I was a little embarrassed to relate the low levels of discomforts from my tissue expander and that I was finished with my expansion and just waiting for my final surgery.

I can remember my surgeon discussing the skin and physiological differences between male and female bodies during my initial surgery assessment. And we talked about how my larger bone structure and muscle and skin structure were different than a females and that I would get better results from my reconstruction than that of the ‘normal’ female. So as I listened to “M” describe what she was going through, it just confirmed what I had been hearing about other women’s reconstruction stories being so painful.

I hope that my blog descriptions of my reconstruction process and how it’s not being so painful has not angered other cancer survivors because of their having experienced a great deal of pain; I did not intend to seem flippant or callous with my description. But these descriptions was of my experience nonetheless.

Diversity and Prayer

Kay has beat me in posting about our new PFLAG group which I was so glad that it went as well as it did. I was nervous, actually very nervous about the attendance until people began to show up and while I was waiting I was talking with our host about diversity issues at the University.

Her issue was really about Christian prayer at functions at the state supported University. And why it was always a Christian prayer at an event where there was a diversity of religions in attendance. So, if our country was founded on ‘Religious Freedom’ why is Christian prayer so heavily favored.

Why do we force our beliefs on those who choice of religion is not the same as ours? We have come to expect everyone to pray our prayer with us or be quiet if we are in a large group event and don't give any thought about if we might offend them. Why can’t we just have a moment of silence instead of a formal prayer, or better yet; why can’t we invite our Jewish brothers to recite a prayer from the Torah, why not a prayer from the Qu'ran by our Muslim brothers, why not a prayer from a Native American and can we be respectful for them? If we are to begin to think of ourselves as a nation of diversity because we can trace our heritage back to a multitude of peoples, why can’t we expand our range of diversity to include a multitude of issues and beliefs? When we are eating out at a restaurant and a couple at a table across the room begins to say their blessing, do we interrupt or point them out to others? We respect their right to quietly say their own blessing. We should extend that respectfulness to other situations. It's alright for others to choose the way they want to give reverence to whomever they believe in. That's between them and their Divine Being and we should not condemn anyone for what they believe.

We conduct non-denominational services at our National Prayer Breakfasts, why can’t we extend that concept to a greater number of organized group events where a prayer has to be said as part of the program.

When my mothers, who is Catholic, visits our church she won’t say the Lord’s Prayer with us, because as Episcopalian we have added more text after ‘….deliver us from evil”; would other Christians sit still through a prayer said by someone who was Jewish, Hindu, Muslim, or other beliefs? Have we become so narrow minded in insisting that a Christian prayer be said while giving disapproving glances to anyone who doesn’t pray their prayer with them? If we can’t condone a diversified religious view, how can we ever condone and/or accept someone who is gay or trans and respect their different beliefs or life?