AUTHOR: M. DATE: 7:13:00 PM ----- BODY:

I am starting to be a big ball of anxiety. Friday morning at O'Dark Thirty we get on an Amtrak bound for South Florida. Now, for all of you out there who have waxed ecstatic about Florida: I don't get it. I can only assume you don't go where I go. The part of Florida where we're headed is retired-Northeasterner-land, a hideous development that was built where there used to be nothing but lots of poverty and trees. They tore down the trees and left the poverty - it surrounds this lovely complex with a pool and wealthy retirees. And the complex is kind enough to employ people living in said poverty to mop the floors and wait on tables. (I sense it's not necessary to point out the racial politics - you've already got a picture, right?) Anyway, poverty and clear-cutting aside, the reason for the anxiety is this: my grandmother and I have hardly been speaking to each other since I broke the news that we were planning a transracial (that being the operative word here) adoption. (I wrote about the original conversation here, and some of the aftermath here and here). Progress to date: nada. When we booked these tickets, it seemed like a good idea. But as the trip gets closer I'm starting to second-guess myself, and I. is understandably fearful of spending 3 1/2 days in a 3-room apartment with two people who adore each other but absolutely cannot seem to find common ground on something so important to both of us. I never thought this could happen. When I came out it was hard for my grandmother, but she came through like a champ. I wouldn't say she's thrilled, but she always asks about Isadora and sends her birthday cards and hasn't - to her great credit - said boo about our child not having a dad. I guess I expected better than this from her because she's always given me better. I'm worried this time that this is the straw that's breaking the camel's back. So many people have assured me that she will come around when she meets our baby. But here's what I'm most afraid of: she'll be 89 in a few weeks. I don't know that we have time to fuck around and not try to repair the damage that's been done to our relationship. More than one person in our family has told her, in no uncertain terms, that if she can't support me - not necessarily agree with me but at least support the way Isadora and I are choosing to build our family - that she will lose me. And, at least in these conversations, this reality has made no difference. She will. not. budge. (And neither will I. This is my FAMILY, damnit). In practice for being the good Jewish mom that I will someday be, I'm trying to prepare for the worst-case scenario. And there it is: she decides that she just can't handle it. Game over. And then what? Stay tuned...

-------- COMMENT-AUTHOR: Foxxy One COMMENT-DATE:8:23 AM COMMENT-BODY:I'm so sorry you are going through this. I really hope your grandmother can move past this and open her mind a bit more.

HUGS -------- COMMENT-AUTHOR: Barb COMMENT-DATE:3:00 PM COMMENT-BODY:my best wishes to you both. --------