The Total Femme

                 

My almost 91-year old mother lives on the memory care floor in the “old folks home” she and my father moved to several years ago. At that time, he had Alzheimer’s; he has since passed away. Now my mom has vascular dementia. At her core, she is the same sweet person, but her giant brain works very differently. The dementia means she can’t remember details or even what happened a few moments ago. It’s also given her the ability to enjoy things she had no use for when she was a high-powered academic, like fancy Pride beads and glittery manicures. All this took a little getting used to, but I roll with it now. Every time I see her, I tell her I love her and she tells me she loves me and that is the most important and enduring piece of information either of us needs.

            Down there on the 2^nd floor, things are always interesting. I never know what a resident is going to say to me or what will be going on. The activities director has her own special ideas, too, about what folks might or might not want to do. The other day, everyone was watching a reality tv expose of Hooters. As I walked with my mom to her room, someone on screen was yelling, “Are you ready to get Hooterfied??”

            But what I wanted to tell you today is related to the first paragraph about meeting my mom where she is now and not fretting about what’s lost. Or even what you can exactly name. On one visit, as I was heading out after hugging my mom goodbye, one of the residents stopped me with a hand on my arm.

            “I have something stuck,” she said, gesturing to her teeth. “Do you have a… a… a little stick?”

            I can’t tell you how satisfying it was that I fucking did have a little stick! Right in my purse! I gave it to her. She was happy. I was happy. Me and my mom love each other.

            I left, smiling.

You and I have lost so many things, I know. Youth, friends, health, hope, habitat, community, brain power, possessions, home, oh, the list can be so long. And oh, can’t we get stuck in that persuasive list?

I know, too, how hard you work, my beloveds. I know you are always wondering if it’s enough to make up for all the loss.

            It is enough.

            You are enough.        

Today pay extra close attention to all the little ways in which you grace the world. The very smallest, so often overlooked details and generosities that you take for granted but that are actually the sweetest and most lovely.

             If we’re paying attention, right in the moment, what is more satisfying than being given the right tool for the right job?

            Right in the moment, what is more important than saying “I love you” to your beloved?

            Loss and all, we are here. Right in the moment, here we are.

            Here you are.

            Right where there is enough.

Every Monday, I offer a Meditation for Queer Femmes, in the spirit of my maternal grandmother, Mimi, who was fabulous, and from whom I inherited her Meditations for Women. Would you like to offer up a Meditation of your own? I would love that! Send it along to me at thetotatalfemme@gmail.com.

Since 2016, I here at The Total Femme have done my best to post thrice a week: Meditations for Queer Femmes on Monday, Pingy Dingy on Wednesday, and Femme Friday on you know when. I’m pulling back the reins now, darlings, and going down to once a week, this Meditation. This doesn’t mean I don’t want to hear from you. Send me your poetry, your musings, your art, your wonderful you, and I will love you and hold you and feature you right here. So let me hear from you! thetotalfemme@gmail.com. And stop by on Mondays for a bit of sacred femme space.