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Wednesday, February 4, 2009

Sex has changed since working at the clinic. So have meals, long stares, idle thought, light conversations about happy things. I can have anything have to do with abortion. I do not have to try. I do not need six degrees.


I would imagine things will begin to change in Washington. Someone will be willing to listen. If I could talk to the president about anything, I'd talk to him about abortion. Basically sacred, an instrument all its own. Let it be. We who wish the best for the women having them, who never ever fall short of empathy--let us dwell in it. Let us usher the women having them. Let us make it beautiful and right. Better for them and for health care and motherhood and the earth and spirituality and arts and publishing and advocacy and counseling and families and babies and local farmers and birds and christmas carols and...


Sign what needs to be signed. Veto what needs to be vetoed. Call me if you have any questions. Have your friends call me. Give them my number. Pleazzzzzesss.


The time to share has come. The outlook is good. Beyond the vow to protect confidentiality. The gross resistance. The heartbreak that leaves you sobbing, coping in unfamiliar patterns, laughing at things others will not get and feeling so sweet and so wicked. There is a woman, a patient, who deserves a dignified solution to her medical plight. A story. A mother. A daughter. A really good reason to have an abortion.

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