6:44 and I am home. They ran tests in the hospital and my blood looked "good" and so did the x-rays of my chest. Thank God! Mostly I needed to make sure I wasn't having a stroke or heart attack or something like that. My chest still feels stiff and a little achy but I can deal with that. The doctor said that I may be coming down with something and my inside whatevers are just inflamed and that I can take some Motrin to calm the inflammation. Whatever. How many times have I told you, Mary about the maintenance these human bodies require? It's no joke. And I'm only 43. Truthfully though, I have it really easy compared to a lot of folks. Aside from the occasional cramps and other small stomach issues, a headache here and there, I don't really get sick sick that often. More than I like though.
I was being released from the hospital at the same time Love was getting off work so we met at Denny's to eat. I needed soup. Again. His company and concern felt good. Good to sit across from someone who loves me. Someone I love. Someone who cares about my health, my day, my thoughts, me. We shared stories of our day. We ate and came home. Beautiful real life.
It's good to be home. I'm tired. It's not even 7:00 and already I wanna grab a blanket and curl up on the couch. I have a few things to do though before I do that.
I found out that today is national transgender day. I'm going to assume you understand what that means. I send love today to my transgender brothers and sisters around the world. It takes courage to live your heart in the face of hatred, confusion and bigotry of others. As a black woman I experience a lot of prejudice. Still, as a black, heterosexual woman I often forget the privileges I do have in this society. My heart as a woman is to dress and move about as most women do, for the most part. But what if that was not natural for me? What if what was more natural for me was to live as the opposite gender to what I was born? I don't know that I would have the courage to follow my heart. It is dangerous to live amongst people's hatred. So many transgender people are killed and abused just because of the choices they make regarding their own bodies. All abuse hurts, Mary. All of it.
Many people don't agree with me, and that's ok. It does not hurt that people do not share my beliefs. It hurts that many people abuse others because they choose to live their lives differently.
I remember about maybe fourteen years ago I met a woman. Well, she was born a man but identifies as woman. Because this letter is public I will call her Jeri. We met at a club I used to work in. Then I would frequently see her at a poetry spot I often attended. Jeri and I had fascinating conversations. We always greeted each other with a smile. She listened to my stories and shared hers. She was/is a human being just like I am. Who am I? Who is anyone to deny her human rights? Human space to catch the bus, walk to a store, have coffee with a friend without being tortured? We all deserve this. I think about Jeri from time to time. I just stopped seeing her around. Do you know her, Mary? I treat you like you are God. I guess you can't know everything, everyone. I was just wondering though. Wondering if she was safe, happy, had a community of people she could trust, felt safe with. Things we all need.
No one should kill themselves or even have that consideration because of how they choose to express themselves. Sadly though, my brothers and sisters are dying every day. At their own hands and at the hands of others. There is so little time, it seems. So little time to complete everything we want to do on this planet while we are here. You know something about that. More than most I would say. Why do we spend, waste any of the precious few moments on causing harm to others? Especially others who only want to live out their moments as comfortably and as freely as they can? It doesn't make sense to me.