Trans-Young

This is my mom Michelle. On my trip to Montreal, we are enjoying each other’s company to the utmost. It doesn’t come natural to us to be apart. Look at those beautiful blue eyes and you will find a paradox of warm and cold emotions. That’s who she is, a hardcore bitch with a heart of gold. She’s cynical but not on purpose and she really does care. Remind you of anyone?

The header photograph was taken as we were about to go shopping and a group of French tourists noticed my hat and asked if they could take a picture with me for some kind of rally competition on social media. They checked taking a photo with someone with a hat off their list and turned to my mom because they also needed a shot with a mamie, which means grandma. “Do you consider yourself a grandma* politely asked one of the young men. After some pause and hesitation my mom said yes and helped further their standing. For the header, I had to turn my phone on, I haden’t since charging it overnight. They were antsy but we got there. They were telling me that this hand gesture was the signature move of some rapper so I did it but as you can see Michelle opted for a boxing stance. “I don’t know what kind of lyrics I’m getting behind”, she casually told me after they left.

One thing I was always grateful for as a teenager is how she would take my defence every time I got bullied, even by teachers. We moved to California when I was 9 while my brother stayed with my dad. He was 8 at the time. We became extremely close trying to adapt. I had to learn English on the fly at a Waldorf school. I was grateful that we copied our own textbooks from the board so I could learn the language in time to pass 4rth grade.

Choosing a Waldorf school for her son with the little money she had is so her. She relied on the community to get by and our trailer was parked on a lot belonging to another parent from the school. For the rest of elementary, it was pretty much us against the world and this is how we developed our own brand of anarchy which survives to this day.

Buckwheat patties anyone? It’s just buckwheat flour, water and a little oil in the pan. Plus, it goes with just about anything, we had it today both for breakfast and lunch.

A little shopping never hurt anyone while waiting for the end of the world. She thinks it’s the end of the world and tells everyone, never was good with filters. I think so too but I lie and pretend I believe in electric car propaganda bullshit because I don’ want to crush anyone’s dream. Who do you prefer, the Debbie Downer or the hypocrite?

My mom describes herself as trans-young and has no time for ageism. She prides herself on her ability to adapt which comes from a certain humility knowing how she will keep learning till her last breath. Signing is another thing that keeps her young, she does it daily and even gets me signing of all people. Who says you can’t teach an old monkey new tricks?

That’s it for today, thanks for dropping by. It’s hard having my mom be so far away. That’s why I take such a long holiday, because phone calls just aren’t enough. I can’t describe our relationship with words but love plays a huge part in it.

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