dawn-quyle-landau

As I finally went to bed last night, at midnight, I found myself shaken by feelings that I dismissed as silly. I let them wash over me for only a moment, and then picked up my book, in the hopes of distracting my weary brain.
I realized that these past 24 years raced by at record speed, and well, that can only mean that the next 20+ years will do the same. Right? I've heard that time moves much faster as you age. So, if you're doing the math along with me: when my son has his 44th birthday, I will be nine months away from (oh God, I can't think it!) 74... which is just shy of 75!
I am ignorant. I'll start there. I don't understand all of the struggles that LGBT youths live with. I am ignorant. I don't understand the pronouns, the labels, the pain and the complexities that the LGBT community experiences every day. I am ignorant, and that has to change.
Recently I was clicking on links, another short cut we all do now- we're fed some news item on our Facebook page, or the actual news page, and from there it's a veritable rabbit hole of links. By the time you end up on some twisted site about how dogs are tortured, you've probably seen all kinds of inside out items you never would have searched for, and you might have adopted a puppy.
Every year I've struggled with my emotions on Mother's Day. My own children have been fairly hit or miss in recognizing the day: from breakfasts in bed that, while not always edible, were priceless in their adorable orchestration, to thoughtful cards and gestures, to forgetting the day all together.