Things I Shouldn’t

Sometimes I think things I shouldn’t, and
I wonder if I’m helping them come
true.  I’ve heard that our thoughts become
what the world looks like through

our eyes, and I believe that for the 
most part.  But what about the horror
writers?  Is Stephen King’s mind 
filled with terror?  Is he afraid?  Haunted

by his own imagination? Is the dystopia
we live in all Margaret Atwood’s fault
for imagining it in the first place? Where
is the line between holding our fear just

long enough to heal it and creating a world
we never wanted? I need to know, because
sometimes I think things I shouldn’t. Like when
I imagine what life would be like if you were

gone.  One day, we will say goodbye for the
last time, and chances are, we won’t even
know it.  When I get your text -- “Home. Thanks
for everything” -- only then do I realize that

my breathing has been shallow for eight 
hours while you’ve been on the road.
And I am able to forget again that one 
day we will have to say goodbye for

real. I am safe in my home and you in
yours, and I can imagine that we will
see each other at Christmas, like we 
have for half a century or more, and we 

can pretend that we always will have 
another Christmas or another visit and
I can forget that sometimes I think things
I shouldn’t. 


© 2020 Deb Moore, All Rights Reserved

Every Now is Slippery

Every now is slippery. 

The 15-minute
rendezvous in Cincinnati,
you driving to Michigan,
us heading back south,
hugs and summaries
in a McDonald’s
parking lot,
a shared laugh
that we managed
to pull this off.

Seven-year-old
Emily rounding the bases
in Denver,
pigtails bouncing.
Vacations home
spent tagging along
on your routine
as if I really lived there
those five days.  

That visit from mom
when she redid
my entire house,
never stopping,
the way she liked it,
and then it was done,
and she left,
and 15 minutes later
I wanted to hug her
and say I love you
and maybe have
a cup of tea. 

I missed
Christmas ‘88,
but no others,
because that was
sacred –
not necessarily holy,
but sacred.
All running together
now in one big
glittery blur,
some asterisked by
an absence
or a change
or a drama. 

So many moments,
each their own
kind of tradition
in the remembering,
but also each
a separate pinpoint
on a timeline.

I want to
hold two-year-old Emily
in my arms,
her dangling feet
bouncing off my thigh,
my back strong
and able.
But she’s 34 now,
no longer the
big-eyed baby
she will always be to me
and will never be again.

I want to lasso
memory,
hold a fistful
of water,
hogtie
the wind.

But time only
moves forward.
Nothing ever
comes back
around again
exactly
the same.

Every now is
slippery,
held for an
instant —
No, not even held,
just slipping,
always slipping
away.  

© 2020 Deb Moore, All Rights Reserved

And . . . We’re Back

After that not-so-quick word from our sponsor, The Holiday Season, we now return to our regularly scheduled blogging.

Thoughts on the New Year:

1.  I have 19 pounds to lose.

2.  Love the holidays and love getting back to the rhythm of everyday life.

3.  No one will ever take care of your dogs the way that you do.

4.  I’ve deleted the word “resolutions” from my vocabulary and have replaced it with “creative spark.”  I will create 2009 like a painting of many layers, not force it into some kind of resolved, strength-of-will, restrictive land of limitations.

5.  I have so much respect and admiration for my sister, Dalinda, that I don’t even know how to tell her that.

6.  I’m grateful that my mom never seems to get any older.

7.  This week I will begin our garden from seeds in our garage and I am convinced that watching something grow will keep January from sucking like it has so much potential to do.

8.  My classes this spring are going to be the best I’ve ever taught.  (I say that every semester and then wonder what the hell happened about six weeks in, but, you know, try, try, again.)

9.  I have a secret belief that 2009 is going to be absolutely fantastic for me because my numerology number is 11 and the number for 2009 is, of course, 11 (2+0+0+9).  I wouldn’t stake such a strong claim on this except that my “Lifetime Numerology Report!” from several years ago predicted some pretty huge things with amazing accuracy.  Also, it’s a positive secret belief, not some fear that horrible things will happen, so I’m going with it.

10.  I love my family more each year.

Happy New Year, everybody!  Create great things!

Proposition Hate

As important as the presidential election is this year, that’s not the only race that will have my attention on Tuesday.  California’s Proposition 8 is perhaps as pivotal a civil rights decision as we have seen in many years.

This past May, the California Supreme Court ruled that denying gays and lesbians the right to marry violated the state constitution.  Almost immediately, the very people whom this would least effect jumped into high gear to introduce a ballot initiative to overturn that decision.   The religious right and, most specifically, the Mormon Church has devoted millions of dollars and enlisted thousands of people to this cause.

With the Supreme Court’s decision this past May, California became the second state in the country to legalize marriage for gays and lesbians (Massachusetts having been the first).  Since then, Connecticutt has made a similar decision.  This early and intense challenge to California’s law is seen by many legal analysts as a canary in the mine for the way this issue may play out in other states over the coming years.

The arguments for gay marriage are legion and are supported by law and history.  The arguments against gay marriage essentially boil down to one thing – religious belief.  But, religion has nothing to do with it.

Since about the time that Henry VIII got irked at the Pope for denying him a divorce and started his own church, marriage has been a civil issue in most of the western world.  In this country, the government has always been in charge of marriage, which is in truth a legal contract.  This is why every church wedding I’ve ever attended included the words, “by the power vested in me by the state of (fill in the blank).”   The first marriage of two European settlers on the North American continent was performed by William Bradford acting on the authority of his position as Governor.  The early Puritans actually believed that the English custom of marriage by clergy was unscriptural.  Now, I don’t have any quarrel with big church weddings.  In fact, I believe it is only fitting that two people would include their spirituality in what will likely be one of the biggest days of their lives.  But the simple fact is, the church doesn’t own marriage.

What is immensely distubing to me is that people who are commanded to love their neighbor as themselves are so angrily determined to suppress equal rights for an estimated 10% of the population.  They have nothing to lose, and gay people have everything to gain, so the only motivation they could possibly have is religious bigotry.  When pressed into a corner, they sometimes offer the olive branch of “civil unions,” a legal contract between two people who choose to build a life together (do I need to point out that is EXACTLY what marriage is?).  Haven’t we already learned this lesson?  In 1896, the U.S. Supreme Court ruled in the Plessy v. Ferguson decision that segregation was okay as long as facilities were “separate but equal.”  Brown v. The Board of Education overturned that ruling in 1954 when it was determined that separate was inherently not equal.  The most interesting aspect of the civil unions debate is that it implies the opponent would concede the rights as long as they still owned the word.  I could almost say, “Fine, just give me the rights, and I’ll use the word anyway.”  Nobody owns a word, you dip-wads.  But separate is not equal.  Different is not the same.

The most difficult challenge in this issue is getting non-gay people to care.  I know that those who aren’t gay don’t feel the sting like we do, just as white people will never truly understand the African-American experience.  But, gays and lesbians across this nation, including me and my wife, are passionate about this because it is vital for us.  Only marriage can give me all the tools I need to protect my family.  This may seem like an off-the-radar social issue to many Americans, but to me it is my family’s finances, healthcare, inheritance issues, relationships, property rights, and basic definition that is at stake.  For me, it is the right to say, “This is my family.”  That, my friends, is not a small thing.   And just as white people marched with Dr. King, it will take equality-minded straight people to help win this fight.

On Tuesday, hundreds of thousands, maybe millions, of Californians will walk into a voting booth and vote on something that has no effect on them, but the most essential effect on many others.  They will vote yes on Proposition 8.  They are the playground bullies who won’t share the swingset.  No, that’s too kind.  They are the segregationists of the 21st Century.  My deep hope is that hundreds of thousands, maybe millions, plus 1 vote no on this proposition of suppression and inequality.  But it will take all of those who feel the full effect of this bigotry . . . plus an army of others who simply care enough to care.