Saturday, November 30, 2013

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. 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.



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


  1. Do you think she'd adopt a 66 yr old? I want to be in her family.

    And, yes, Mike, you done good!

    1. Dunno, Martha. You'll have to get in line.

  2. There is not one bit of preaching in Mama Kate's letter . . . nothing about "God" or "Christianity" and yet that letter is the most Christ-like thing I've seen in a long, long time. Dad has every right to be proud. I'm inspired and will check out the website she's mentioned.

    1. Thanks for your comment. No, not much preaching in the family. How one acts to one's fellow person is more telling than what flag it's done under.

  3. Indeed. Very nice. Our little United Nations is not to be identified by name on the internet but it ok for me to show there faces. A girl from southern Ethiopia whose mother died and came here at age 3 or 4 and a boy left in a train station in Kilgali Rwanda. . We love them both and their big brother too....;)

    1. Didn't know that, TB, but I'm not surprised at all. It sounds like you and the missus. Take care, pal. Have a good holiday.