Email from my daughter

I got this the other day and thought I'd pass it along. I'm so proud of  all my kids, but this is pretty special. When one of your children do this, you know you've done something right.

Sounds delicious! If the pie turned out well, perhaps I can convince you to make it for Christmas? This year, I'm grateful for Whole Foods. We've all been sick so much, and with the exception of Fiona, we're all still a little sick, so it's quite a load off not to be cooking this year. And we ordered both pumpkin and pecan pies. A pecan pie with NO CORN!!! One thing I'm doing new this year is submitting a letter to Your Holiday Mom. http://www.yourholidaymom.com/ They publish one letter, with audio and picture, every day from Thanksgiving through New Years. They're for the LGBTQ kids who are rejected by their families during the holiday season. Did you know that the AVERAGE age of homeless LGBTQ youth is 14??? That means there are 12 year olds who are living on the street because their parents couldn't accept who they are. Heartbreaking. I hope you guys have a delicious meal and a great day. Give David and Helen my love. Love, Kate Oh, and here's the letter I wrote for Your Holiday Mom: My dear one, My name is Kate, and I'm a mom of 3. I knit, snark on the internet, read and watch sci-fi, cook, and fail to clean my house like a Proper Mother(tm) should. My husband and I and our middle child, who is genderqueer, are active in sci-fi fandom in our area. My youngest, who is only 3, reflects our family culture pretty well. She loves Doctor Who, knows all the permutations of gender-neutral personal pronouns, and has expensive taste in cheese. I'm writing to tell you I love you. (Yeah, I love YOU. You, specifically.) And to tell you that the spirit of warmth, light, rebirth, and celebration, all belong to you. I hope this letter finds you well, but if it doesn't, please know I'm holding you in the light all through these dark nights of the season. This season can be a hard one to feel different, when we see families around us all drawing close, and honoring their oneness and their traditions that bind them. I do know some LGBTQ adults who still feel apart from their families, and they've made their own traditions, with friends-who-are-family. We usually have a number of them at our house for Thanksgiving, for what is usually called an Orphan's Thanksgiving, meaning, a bunch of people who don't have their own big family gathering. But we do consider each other a big family, and one of my foster kids is an actual orphan, so we prefer to call it Geeksgiving. Everyone brings something, I cook for days, and we have a houseful of warmth, among people we love, and are so grateful for all the love that we've welcomed into our lives with our created family. I'm going to set a place for you, because we love you, and we welcome you. I'll be holding you in my heart on December 2, when the Christmas Season begins in our home. See, December 1 is the birthday of one of our family, and one holiday at a time, thankyouverymuch! So on Dec. 2, when we crank up the carols, and if the cleaning got done after Thanksgiving, we start decorating. When I put up lights, I'll be thinking of you, and holding your unique and wonderful soul in the light. When we assemble the plastic tree, I'll be grateful that you're the real you, not a pretense of you. When I sing Joy To The World, horribly off-key, I'll be wishing Joy straight to your heart. When you hear your favorite carol, imagine it off-key, in a loud alto. That's me, singing to you about the joy and love and hope of the holidays. When you need a hug, close your eyes. I'm probably thinking of you right then, and sending you a hug from my soul to yours. I want you to do something for you - for me - this season. Do one thing you love. Give yourself an afternoon to just appreciate who you are, who you have been, and who you will be. Or go get a manicure. Or that hat you've been wanting. Ride a carousel. Sing at the top of your lungs, do a cartwheel, or immerse yourself in music that makes you feel good about yourself. I love you, Mama Kate