Holiday traditions

Holidays are always hard for me. Last year I spent my Thanksgiving and almost my Christmas in a mental hospital. My mom loved the holidays and would go all out for them. I lost someone I loved just after New Year's Day. My lack of interest in it makes me not want to celebrate Christmas.

I've long wondered what makes holidays so good for other people and so lousy for me. My depression is a little worse around those times. Himself used to love celebrating Thanksgiving, but after the loss of his mother a few years ago, Thanksgiving is just as hard for him as it is for me.

Thanksgiving is the best of the holidays for me too. Not because of the food, but because I get to see my brother and sisters. Even if one of my older sisters and I have some problems with each other. We've all agreed to have a truce for the holiday so we don't upset my dad. This year we won't have that as none of the older ones can come for dinner and dad decided he would rather go to a restaurant that's open on Thanksgiving rather than cook.

Holidays have become so commercialized I think people have forgotten about what they're supposed to mean. I don't mean the religious background of them. I mean the fact that they're supposed to be around family.

I'm one of those people angry at businesses for being open on Thanksgiving and Christmas. In many cases, from the people I've talked to, they're not allowed to call out on either of those days because if they are they'll be fired. They're not allowed to request the days off, but the managers can. One friend of mine is a cashier. She told me that on Black Friday, there were fifteen cashiers on and one manager. You can guess what kind of chaos that caused, and the store manager didn't care what the reason was. He was angry that they lost sales because people walked out when the manager didn't come to answer their requests.

Holidays should be about family. They should be about having fun with your family. Don't get me wrong. I love getting gifts at Christmas. I enjoy giving them too. But I don't look at it as Christmas. I look at is as loving my family and sharing in a tradition we've established.

Families develop traditions for the holidays. Each one celebrates them a little differently than the others. Traditions are a lot of fun. Those same traditions that they've participated in since they were children can be carried on when the children grow up and have children of their own. But those families will develop their own traditions as well.

What about you? What holiday traditions do you have? This is for any holiday, not just Thanksgiving or Christmas.

Why do I write? Why do you write?

I was talking to my stepmom last week and the conversation turned to my writing. She's not that interested in fantasy or science fiction, but she tries to be supportive. She asked me how my work was going. We hadn't talked about it for a while so I told her the project we'd discussed the last time we talked about it had a finished first draft and I was working on a Snow White retelling that I was having fun with.

Then she asked me when I thought I'd actually get paid for my writing. I told her I was still waiting to hear back from some e-zines about the short stories I'd submitted to them. Then I said depending on if I self-pubbed, went to a small press, or got a publishing contract from the Big 5, it could be up to two years before it saw print and I saw some money from the novels. Not to mention I have to finish revising them and find someone to read through and point out my mistakes.

She said it sounded like a lot of work for little return. I told her it could seem that way but for me writing was more than just for money. When she asked me why I write, I had an answer for her that she didn't understand.

This is what I told her: I write because I have stories to tell.

I don't mind the thought of getting paid for it. I've been leaning towards submitting my writing to different places in the hopes that my stories are well received by others. And I'd be lying if I didn't say my goal is to publish. But it's not the money that drives me. It's the need to tell as many people as possible the stories kicking around in my head.

And I have a lot of stories.

So, here's a question for all of you. Why do you write?

My sister and her cancer

I hate cancer. I have a good reason too. It killed both of my grandmothers and my mom. Now it's killing my oldest sister.

My dad went to Washington two weeks ago to do two things: meet my cousin's wife who we've never seen before and celebrate my cousin's 50^th birthday (he's an Australian citizen now and has been since he got married and we were pretty sure he'd never come back to the States because of how expensive travel is), and to spend some time with my sister who's dying.

I won't go much into my dad's visit with my cousin. My dad got to meet his wife. She was nice and fits in well with the family. My aunt loves her daughter-in-law.

I want to talk for a moment about the visit my dad had with my sister. He told me all about it last week when I returned his car to him. He let me borrow it for errands while he was gone. He told me my sister is losing weight, is going bald, and is on oxygen. The first two I can understand because that's what happened the last time she battled cancer. The oxygen is a new development for her.

And yes, I said the last time she battled cancer. This is her third go around with it. The problem this time is it has metastasized so there's no chance it's going to go away completely. She had five good years with her family with the hope that cancer wouldn't return. That ended a month ago with the new diagnosis.

My dad said my sister told him they're now looking at quality of life instead of quantity. They haven't given up on treating the various problems she's having with the cancer, but they're not sure how much more time they can give her. As a result, my sister is doing as many things as her health will let her.

When my dad went to Vancouver (WA) to see her, they went to the beach several times. My sister carted around her portable oxygen tank and went out to explore with them. They couldn't do the bonfire her husband wished they could because she can't handle the smoke. Someone a little way down from where they were having a snack was cooking on a barbecue and my sister couldn't handle the little bit of smoke that reached them from that.

But my sister poked at jelly fish, helped my younger sister collect shells, let the ocean chase her up the beach. Dad said if it wasn't for the oxygen tank, you wouldn't have known she was sick. She was being as close to her normal self as she could.

When they left, she promised to call every week to tell dad what's going on. If she's too sick, she'll make her husband do it. But one way or the other, dad's going to be kept in the loop. Dad said he'll tell me. He's passing the info along to my brother and other older sister as well.

When I have the ability to donate to anything again, I'm going to ask Himself if we can donate to that. I want to support something that's touched my life deeply. It'll be too late for my sister, and my few dollars won't make much difference, but maybe it'll be enough to give someone a dose of medicine that might help treat their cancer better.

If you have a cause you feel passionate about and can donate to it, try to find a way to budget a few dollars for it. You never know what your donation can do.

And hug your family members. You don't know when something will happen to take them away from you.

Monday Maundering - Marriage Equality

Image courtesy of George Takei, Facebook

Today I'm getting my soapbox out because of the landmark decision the SCOTUS is having to deal with. That is the ruling on marriage equality.

I'm for it. 100%. I believe that everyone who is over the age of consent should be allowed to marry the partner of their choice, assuming that partner is also over the age of consent, regardless of gender. I believe that every person over the age of consent who wants to be a parent should be allowed that opportunity whether it's through natural child birth, IVF, surrogacy, or adoption. Everyone should have the right to be a family as they define it.

Not everyone defines love, marriage, and family the same way. The government needs to stay out of our definitions and allow those of us over the age of consent to choose the way we live our lives. If a child is under the age of consent, but knows that he/she is gay, lesbian, bisexual, or transgender we need to support them in that too. It's not a phase they'll grow out of. It's who they are.

Children should be brought up recognizing that it doesn't matter if who they love is black, white, purple with green polka dots, or the same gender as they are. They have the right and the privilege of loving that person and hopefully being loved back. A boy who wants to wear a dress to prom should be allowed, just as a girl wanting to wear a tux should be allowed. A woman who believes she should have been born a man should be given the same rights and protections as a real man would be. The same goes for a man who thinks he should have been born a woman.

Relationships need to be open and honest, and how can they be if you're forcing one person to deny a part of who they are? Society's fear and hatred of those who follow the LGBT path needs to end. All those who follow the LGBT path are not sinners, not freaks, and sure as hell are not evil. They have the basic human right to love who they wish and they should be encouraged and welcomed. We need to open our eyes and our hearts and bring about equality for all.

A letter to my younger self

Dear 15 year old me,

If only I could tell you.  If I only I could tell you what the next 20 years will bring you.

You will lose someone you love in a terrible car accident, though you don't know you love him yet.  You've only just met him and his sister.  You love being with them because they give you the freedom from the hell that is your current home life and you love their family because they're so open and welcoming.  Keep that love in your heart forever, little one.  These people will love you for your whole life - even after shit hits the fan.

Your mother won't always treat you like shit.  She really does love you, though she can't express it the right way.  Not after what she lived through growing up.  Like you, she's got some undiagnosed mental illness and she hasn't found a way to work through the trauma of her own childhood.  Be grateful she isn't as bad as she was when the older three were kids, though I know she's bad enough to you now.

Don't give up on school.  I know it's hard.  I wish I could tell you how much better things would have been if you'd actually put some effort into your schooling.  Then again, if you were different I suppose we'd never meet Himself and get married.

I know you're depressed a lot, moreso than a normal teenager should be.  Don't worry.  In another year, they'll find a doctor who knows what this is and will get you the help you need.  You're going to rebel, of course, and it's going to come back to haunt you many times over the next 20 years.  But at least you'll have a diagnosis to work with and you will know that there is something wrong with you - and it is treatable.

You will try to take your own life when you lose the boy you're going to grow to love, because at that time you feel he's the only person in the world who loved you - aside from your little sister, who you should stop bullying because of the fact that you're jealous she doesn't get hit by your mom while you do.  You'll resent it at first, but you'll later be grateful to your father for stopping you.  He won't even know that he's saving your life because you'll never tell him or your mom how close you came to ending your own life.

You will love again, only to be betrayed.  But that betrayal will give you the courage to leave everything you know behind and move to Washington.  By doing that, you open yourself up to a new experience - a new life.  You will find yourself both loved and hated by the people around you.  You're different from them, and some will resent you for it.  But you will excel at what you do and you'll make new friends that will remain friends for life.  You will also open yourself up again to love.  You will love a boy who learns to love you back, and eventually you will get married.

You will get the mother you always wanted, only to have her stolen away by cancer.  You will lose everything you love and almost everything you own, and you will once again find yourself in the position of wanting to take your own life.  But again someone who loves you will stop you, even though he is the cause of some of your pain.  You will work through it and become stronger for it.

Over the next 20 years, you will face death, pain, and loss.  You will drop out of college because of illness.  You will spend time in the hospital multiple times due to illness.  You will be on different medications off and on through your life because of illness.  You will gain a new insight into handling your depression and anxiety, and you will learn to smile and laugh again.

There will be negative things in your life, but there will also be joy.  You meet a man you can love and who will love you back.  You will be together for 13 years and married for 10 as of the writing of this letter.  He will be there to back you up.  You will make many new friends and you will start to realize your dream of becoming a published writer.

Throughout everything, there will be one constant: your writing.  You're going to want to quit here soon.  You're going to have that dream punctured for you by your teachers.  Your mother is going to give you one of the rare pieces of good advice and encouragement that she gave us during our teenage years - "No matter what happens, don't stop writing.  Even if your fingers cramp and you're crying tears of blood, don't stop writing."

We will stop writing, but we will never stop dreaming.  And because of your husband, you really take a good, hard look at your dream and realize that maybe, just maybe, it's reachable.  You will meet other writers, people who become good friends, who will encourage you.  You will offer encouragement and praise to them as well, and will learn a lot about the craft from them.

Remember, even as bleak as being a 15 year old in an abusive and dysfunctional family can be, you will have 20 years of life to live and while it won't always be all sunshine and rainbows, it will teach you to be strong.  Keep that in mind and you will be fine.

With much love,
Your 35 year old future self