Tropical Zen

Today’s Trick: Opposable Thumbs

Take your thumb and rub it lightly back and forth across the second segment of your fingers to make a whispering noise-”tssa, tssa, tss”. It’s distinct enough that that noise, repeated a few times, is enough to prevent a startled (and possibly violent) response when someone touches me unexpectedly.

Over the years, it’s come to mean many things — among them affection, care, respect, for fears and needs and space.  It also often means that petting is about to happen. This all started many years ago when I first had Sputnik the surly black cat. That boy shed like he was being paid by the by the strand–short black cat hairs floating gently everywhere with each pet. As I’d pet him I’d rub some of the fur off my fingers in the above-described fashion (tssa, tssa, tss) and he quickly associated that noise with affection, so whenever I wanted to touch him I’d make that noise. If he was sleeping, I could make the finger-whispering noise and he’d keep drowsing as I pet him (instead of attacking, which he often did in his kittenhood).

I don’t know exactly when it became a thing to do with humans, but I most strongly associate it with my kid. Like me, she startled easily and could be angry and very frightened when caught unawares. “Heightened startle response,” they call it. I also tend to pay close attention to certain familiar voices and sounds so I can pick them out from the undifferentiated din of public places, but it’s still often a game of “guess what they actually said.” We used the finger-whisper enough that even my hard-of-hearing ears could pick the noise out of the background, a vital thing when I need to hear something/someone.

Sometimes, the noise was a shortcut to whispering, “I love you.” (tssa, tssa, tss.)

I’ve since trained other animals to the sound; they pick up pretty quickly what it means. With an animal’s keen sense of hearing, they can often hear the signal from much further away than a human could, so it works pretty well as a “come here for something you like” call.  I wonder –who trained whom?

Sigh. I really miss my kid right now.

My sister’s husband broke his spine last Sunday, but his spinal cord seems to be intact, thank the Lords of Kobol.

My sister has always been my ally, and except for that awkward period of hero worship/clothes stealing that happened when we were kids, we’ve always been fairly close. She is the most awesome mom I know–I’ve actually seen her apologize to her kid when she was mistaken about something, like it was No Big Deal. I have no idea where she got that from, our parents never did anything of the kind.

I started on my gender path, and she said in no uncertain terms that I’d have to get a legal no-contact order to keep her away from me; a little thing like gender wasn’t going to get in her way. I do love her. Best person I’m related to, hands down. (Although, except for our 3 other siblings, that’s *really* not saying much. Still, Oldest Brother sets the bar pretty high.)

I love my sister. Everybody has one thing that they value more than anything else, and when you understand that one thing, that person’s life choices make a lot of sense. My sister’s thing: Loyalty.

It’s weird, because I’m not sure I understand where she gets the information she uses to choose where her loyalties lie; but for her, the choices she’s made have generally been good ones, and she’ll stick it out no matter what. No Matter What, unless they try to harm her Family. She gets so very much pleasure from her loyalty, like a feeling that she’s doing something Right and Honorable.

She is. Maybe I should get her a medal.

I’m worried for my brother-in-law, though. I’ve lived with 13 years of chronic pain, pain and sleeplessness and rage and fear; sometimes shaking my ineffectual fists at god, often declaring that there is no such being. I would not wish this on my worst enemy. I would not even wish this kind of pain and heartache on George W Bush, though it’s an occasional fantasy of mine that he feel some pain for all that he’s caused. That’s one of the things about pain, though — it’s not just. It’s not something you get because you deserve it.

But when you have chronic pain, nearly everyone who really sees your suffering will wonder at some point what you did to deserve being in so much pain. I wondered for nearly ten years.

I’m afraid for him, and for her; I’m also afraid for me. *I* don’t want to have to see someone I care about go through this, whatever “this” really is. Everyone involved is scared, and the job I’ve set for myself is (as usual) to go in, be rational and attentive and listen, to try to use the right words to help my sister heal, at least, so that she can continue to be the pillar of strength for her spouse and their 2 kids. To be funny and ease some of the weariness. To install a new window for the air conditioner. Maybe even to make dinner, or let the girls color in my tattoos with felt markers.

It’s good to meet with situations that scare us, to take a deep breath, feel it, and go ahead anyway.

So say we all.