Michelle Ray Cox

Tag: Keely Ray

• Happy Birthday Keely Ray

  Posted at 8:58 am by Michelle Ray Cox, on August 8, 2019

  

  For much of their life, I would post a picture, or a collage of pictures, on Facebook to commemorate Keely’s birthday. I’m not on FB now, so I’ll write a blog.

  This is the first time I have seen my child this year.

  This is the first time I celebrate them using their preferred gender neutral pronouns.

  Much has changed.

  I never felt like I really got it like some of my friends in high school. I wasn’t part of the popular crowd. I wasn’t a cheerleader or a member of the drill team, although I called many in those groups my friend. I dated a football player, so there was that. Then I dated a member of the band, which actually made be feel more like an outsider because those band people had a tight knit group. I always had this underlying feeling of not quite right. Not quite “in”. But I tried. I tried to wear the right clothes and say the right things and fit in. Conform. Belong.

  Not unusual for most of us during that time of discovery known as being a teenager.

  That was 40 to 44 years ago…my high school years.

  How many of my high school friends were struggling with their sexuality? How many were gay? We didn’t have a clue about gender identity and if I had to guess I would say the vast majority of my generation still doesn’t. At least that has been my experience as I talk about my child Keely.

  Take a moment and remember what it was like for you. Now imagine the world today.

  I don’t have to draw the picture, but I’ll outline it.

  Television and what is shown. Facebook, Twitter, Instagram. Cyber bullying. Racial unrest. Internet at the touch of a phone screen. A bombardment of hate, ridicule, rampant teenage suicide. A planet that is slowly being killed in the name of money and greed.

  My child is different. My child is non binary. They are part of that LGBTQIA segment of the population that is being murdered for being different. They are gender neutral and prefer different pronouns. They. Them. I have deleted and blocked hateful ignorant people that I used to consider friends. I deleted them from my life because they ridiculed someone that prefers they them theirs instead of he or she.

  I am in awe at the strength and courage of this child of mine.

  They didn’t understand their difference for most of their life. They knew, but had no point of reference. They did’t have a name or description to label themselves, to let them know that they did belong to a group of similar people.

  Go back to your teenage years and remember how important belonging was.

  Now Keely knows. They are non binary. Aroace. A-sexual. A-romantic. Transgender. There are actually a myriad of terms to describe who they are. Because they are not alone, they are not the only one who is not mainstream.

  It’s a small group to be sure. They aren’t a mass production item like those of us that identify with our gender at birth. They are a unique small batch created by the Creator. By God. They know that with every fiber of their being. As do I.

  Keely was ridiculed and bullied for being different when they attended school in Fremont County. Most hurtful were the friends that stayed at our house, were their friends until the differences became apparent. And some of them turned on them, led the pack to spread the rumors and hurt.

  I almost lost my child to depression. They struggled to even pass a class, this brilliant child of mine.

  They got off the plane in Durango. Straight and tall. Taller than me to their delight. They have their sights set on being taller than Steve.

  They are seventeen today. Keely moved to Louisville to live with their sister Kat, who is finishing up her Doctorate and has amen over responsibility for Keely’s education. She enrolled them in the community college and they have thrived. They just finished English and Psychology. They will be taking four classes this next semester and will have an Associates Degree at the end of the summer semester next year. One B and the other grades are As.

  They are in a nationally recognized choir and have made friends. Slowly and cautiously they are finding their people. They are already thinking about where they will go to pursue a doctorate in Psychology.

  They are so much stronger now. Happy. Laughing. Assertive. Instead of folding into themselves they stand tall and strong.

  They are still a teenager. Hormones, mood swings, opinionated and hopefully slightly rebellious as they find their voice and position in this world, with the normal separation from the adults in their life.

  They are my unique wonderful rainbow child.

  Happy Birthday Keely Ray. I am so thankful that I was given the gift of you.

  Posted in children | 6 Comments | Tagged Keely Ray, transgender children

• Mothers, Daughters, Sisters, Circles, Love

  Posted at 7:26 am by Michelle Ray Cox, on November 4, 2018

  

  Fifteen years ago my oldest daughter Kat entrusted her child to my care.

  Kat had just started college at a Christian university when she found out she was pregnant.  The birth father was never in the picture.   Kat’s father and I adopted the child so that she would have insurance, two parents, a stable home

  Our names are on her birth certificate.   She is legally our daughter.

  Keely grew up calling Kat “Sis”.  Keely knew that Kat was her birth mom.   She knew she was loved by all of us.

  I moved to Colorado.   Keely came with me.

  Kat married Mike, moved to Kentucky and found her path.   Today she is completing a PhD program at the University of Louisville.

  As she grew up Keely became aware that she was different.  I saw it, but I didn’t really SEE it.  I just called her my unique child.   My quirky, independent, different drum beat child.

  She struggled at school, was bullied because she was different.   She never was interested in makeup or hair.   She took rocket making in fifth grade while all the other fifth grade girls took a hair and makeup class.

  She hated pink, and bling.  The word “bra” would make her leave the room.

  It wasn’t until a few years ago that Keely was able to start to put a name to that difference.   It wasn’t until more recently that the name became more specific.

  Non binary.   A-sexual.   A-romantic.   Gender neutral.  Transgender.

  Keely prefers gender neutral pronouns that describe that they do not identify as either male or female.

  They.  Them.  Their.   Not she or her.  Not him or his.

  So that is how I will refer to Keely.  Them.  They.  Their.  Themselves.

  The social aspect and academic pressures of high school were intense.  There was anxiety.   Anger.   Insomnia.   Stress.  Health issues. They were pulled out of class for unwanted “counseling”.   Called names by people that used to be their friends.  Ridiculed for being different.

  Keely has a wonderful tribe of friends that recognize who they are and are respectful and loving.   Those friends are why they able to stay strong in spite of the tremendous pressure they must have felt.

  It got so bad we decided to do online school from home this, their Sophomore year. While they still had their tribe of friends, they were removed from everyday connection.   While incredibly intelligent, they struggled with their grades.  They developed severe insomnia, sometimes only sleeping for two to three hours a night, but still trying to complete school work, write papers, research, take exams.   By the time the weekend came around, they only wanted to sleep.  And try to catch up because they were always behind.

  More isolation from friends.   Isolation from us, their family.   They retreated downstairs into a dark lonely place.

  I was so concerned.   I would wake up at night worried.  I was only sleeping a few hours a night.   How do I help them at school?  How do I help with friends?    How do I save this child of mine?  I’d go down at 3am, not able to sleep.  They would be awake also.

  We found a therapist and they started counseling.

  Spring break came around and Keely went to Kentucky to stay with Kat for the week.   Keely had decided that they wanted to attend U of L and Kat arranged a college tour.   Kat worked with them on their school work.  Kat is very tied into the LGBTQ community and introduced Keely to the group at U of L.

  Towards the end of the week we decided that Keely could stay a few more weeks so that Kat could help them get completely caught up.  Then the conversation morphed.  And morphed again.

  Until the realization became very apparent that the best place for Keely to be was in Louisville.  With their sister.  Who is their birth mother.

  Kat is uniquely qualified to help and support Keely through this phase of their life.  Kat teaches at the college that Keely will attend.  Kat has her own unique drumbeat thing going on, and if anyone in the whole world is going to be accepting of being “different” it is Kat and her household and friends.   They all love Keely and accept them as who they are.  Kat has put them in contact with teenagers that they can identify with.   The cultural environment at the University of Louisville, and the City of Louisville, is head and shoulders more liberal and open to gender difference than where we live in small town Colorado.

  Keely agonized over leaving their friends behind.   They are stepping into uncharted territory which is scary at any age, but especially for a teenager.   But during the weeks that they have been in Kentucky, I think they have seen that there is a bright, light filled world out there.  A world they were not able to see here in Penrose.   A world that I cannot give them.

  As I realized how right this decision is, I tried to express to Kat what a gift and an honor it has been to be entrusted with Keely. How inadequate I feel I have been.   How I wished that I had seen sooner.  Done something different.   And how blown away I have been at how Kat has stepped up to the plate.   That is another story, but let me tell you, there is no doubt in my mind that Kat is qualified and fiercely prepared to do whatever she has to do for Keely.

  Kat told me that my support of her journey allowed her to become the person she is today.  The person that can take Keely through this next stage of life in a way that I never could.  A beautiful circle of love and support.

  I look at this as a story of love.   Love for this precious, unique, strong person that is Keely Ray.  A story of sisters who are mother and daughter.   Circles of love with my two children who are both so unique and special and I love with all my heart.    And the recognition that our most important responsibility as a parent is to do the best thing for our child.

  After a lot of tears, which still rise up when I talk about this, I am passing the care of Keely to Kat.  I know with all my heart that this is the right thing to do.   This is a lot of responsibility for Kat, huge changes in her life as well as that of her family.   I am so impressed with the love and the wisdom I see.   Just in awe really.

  Keely is in exactly the right place at the right time now. Their world is going to open in ways I can only imagine.   They will have the freedom and light to grow as they were meant to grow, to be who they were created to be.

  

  Posted in children, Relationships | 20 Comments | Tagged a-sexual, Kat King, Keely Ray, neutral pronouns, non binary gender, teenager gender idenity, transgender

• Happy Birthday David Ray

  Posted at 5:24 pm by Michelle Ray Cox, on November 20, 2013

  

  David and Kyle

  Thirty five years ago, my son was born. I wasn’t there, in fact I didn’t meet him for another two years.

  David is the son of my heart. For the years I was married to his dad, he was legally my step-son. After his dad and I split up, he called to tell me that he loved me, and I was still his mom. He is still my son.

  I met him when he was two. White blond hair, extremely verbal, very precocious. He started to call me Mom, which bothered his mom Laurel. I don’t blame her a bit. David handled it by calling me Mom when he was with me, but if both of his moms were together he would call me Michelle when talking to Laurel, and use Laurel’s name when talking to me. Like I said, he was a smart kid.

  He loved Star Wars. He had a problem pronouncing “L” and “Y” for a while. He was always “Uke” Skywalker and he wanted to wear the “Ellow” shirt. I still pronounce “Luke” and “Yellow” that way sometimes.

  My mom told David that he was her “Number One Grandchild”. David started crying. “I don’t want to be Number One!”
  Mom said, “but David, you are my oldest grandchild, that makes you Number One.”
  “I don’t want to be Number One, I want to be Number Zero because Zero comes before One!”
  Henceforth, mom always referred to him as “Ole Number Zero”.

  There was a picnic table on the beach at Destin, Florida that David ran into every year. The story of that table and David’s affinity for it comes up every time we get together.

  Destin is where a momentous occasion occurred.
  It was our first visit as a family, David was two and a half. We went to a restaurant on the wharf, and to put it bluntly, he was being a holy terror. We put up with it for a while, and then finally Charles got up, took him by the hand and marched him outside.

  A while later, David came down the aisle with his dad behind him. I could tell they had both been crying.
  David climbed into his booster seat beside me, looked at me and said “Boy, Mom, wait until you have your first spanking!”
  Charles had taken him out, spanked him, and then cried with him afterwards.
  I reminisced with David just this week about that story.

  We have had our ups and downs, David and I. He came to live with us when he was 13. Anyone with any experience with kids will tell you that the teenage years are not anything fun to go through, for the kid, or the parents.

  There were battles over getting up in the morning. The solution of several alarm clocks around his room didn’t work because he would just put his pillow over his head and go back to sleep. Drove us nuts.

  I had to bang on the bathroom door in the mornings because he would go to sleep in the bathtub.

  It was a battle of wits and will. I remember telling him he had five chores to do because he could go out. He only got three done. And he said I didn’t tell him about the other three. Now I was pretty sure I had said five, but there was some doubt. So I let him go out with his friends.
  Next weekend, I gave him a list. And I made him sign and date it.

  And then there are all of the Christmas stories. Maybe they are so real because of all the pictures we have.

  David and Kat would start checking the packages at Christmas, so they pretty much had all their gifts figured out by Christmas morning. I fixed that by putting numbers instead of names on the packages. And I wouldn’t tell them who had which number until they came downstairs Christmas morning.

  Another Christmas I rustled everyone out of bed to open gifts. We noticed after the gifts were open that it was still dark. Which is when I realized the clock had read 3:30am instead of 5:30am. They all stumbled back to bed while I enjoyed the quiet of a Christmas morning and read the newspaper.

  David’s little brother Joe spent Christmas with us one year.

  

  David, Kat and Joe Christmas morning

  David moved back to California when he was 17. We kept in touch by phone, with a few visits tossed in.

  Christmas of 1999 David called to ask if he and some friends could stop over for Christmas on their way to Florida for the for the New Year’s 2000 Phish concert. Several young adult boys piled into a van in Oregon, with virtually no money, and made the cross country trek. What a cool adventure. We fed them well, packed a lot of left overs for the trip and sent them on their way in an epic ice storm.
  He spent Christmas with us our first year in Colorado. Charles was here too, so Keely was in heaven. It was the first time any of us had seen David in four or five years. It was a good week. David and I went on some walks, talked about life and tried to solve all the problems of the world.
  
  So many great Christmas memories.

  David now is a dad. Kyle is two, and looks so much like David that it is spooky. And he is verbal and precocious just like his dad was at that age. So when David calls and tells me Kyle stories, I find myself remembering that little white blond boy. And telling those David stories to David.

  

  David and Kyle

  So there is this full circle kind of thing going on. This Christmas, Steve, Keely and I are going to be joining Krista, David, Toby, Jake and Kyle for Christmas.
  My little boy is now a man. A responsible adult, who goes to work and takes care of his boys. He calls me on my birthday and on Mother’s Day.

  That little boy that insisted on calling me mom is someone I am proud to call my son.
  Happy Birthday David. I love you.

  Mom

  0.000000 0.000000
  Posted in Relationships | 0 Comments | Tagged Charles Ray, David Ray, Joe Edwards, Keely Ray, Krista Brown, Laurel Truan, Steve Cox

• HAPPY DOUBLE NICKLE…LIFE IS GOOD.

  Posted at 1:00 pm by Michelle Ray Cox, on September 26, 2012

  
  I guess I can’t define myself as a young adult anymore. Any way you look at it, 55 is middle aged.

  Inside I’m screaming “I’m too young to be this old!”

  I feel better than I have in years. Not that I was really feeling bad, I just wasn’t feeling great. But with almost 25 pounds off, no sugar, dairy, grains or processed foods in three months, I feel great. I’ll write another blog about the eating stuff, but I can tell you it doesn’t matter how much you work out, if you don’t have your nutrition right, you are spinning your wheels.

  I’ve done martial arts for thirty five years. But not anymore. One hip replaced, the other one bone on bone. Surgery on one shoulder, both shoulders still have issues. Knee surgery. And my darn torn quad is still giving me fits twelve years later. I have to acknowledge that martial arts and my overachiever personality contributed to the state I am in today. So I’m letting go of a huge part of my life, a huge part of my identity. And because everything else in my life is so good, I’m ok with that.

  Before, I needed the challenge of martial arts to boost my ego and self confidence. I craved the sense of accomplishment of learning new stuff, forcing my body to do things that I never thought possible. There is something deeply satisfying about teaching, about being fully immersed in martial arts and owning a school. Owning a school can also kill your love of the martial arts if you let it, and I came close. That is another story and another blog.

  I love Crossfit. Well, that may be overstating it a bit. I love the way I feel AFTER I have done Crossfit. Most days actually doing Crossfit sucks big time. But that is a price I’m willing to pay. I love the encouragement and camaraderie at 6:45 in the morning. And I have to say, Alison is the bomb. She watches me like a hawk, and makes sure I have my butt stuck out when I’m doing squats. Who could ask for more?

  I thank God everyday that Steve and I are together. I’m not going to get all sappy about soul mates and true love, but we talk about that pretty frequently. There is a comfort and ease about our relationship that is very deep. We both know how fortunate we are, and we cherish and protect what we have. It’s good to be loved and to love without reservation.

  People think I’m joking when I say I don’t like kids and never wanted any. I’m not joking. I never wanted kids. I guess I like them OK now. Some of them more than others. In moderation.

  With a couple of breaks, I will have had a child under the age of 18 living with me from the time I was 24 until I am 64. I wouldn’t change a thing. My life is so much more full and blessed because of my kids.
  David is now almost 35 years old. He has turned into a hardworking mature man and a great dad. Kat will be 29 in January and is kicking ass at the University of Louisville. Keely just turned 10.

  Steve and I get a lot of joy from Keely. Who would have thought, at age 61 and 55, that it would be so rewarding to have a 10 year old? I think we would feel pretty young anyway, but she cements the deal. We plan trips and excursions around and for her, so we wind up doing stuff we never would have thought of doing if it was just the two of us. She insists on sitting between the two of us on the couch when we watch TV. She crawls in to bed with us every night for snuggle time. Hugs and kisses and “I love you”. Lots and lots of smiles. We love those rituals and realize that she will be gone in a flash, so we enjoy it all while we can.

  However I still heartily dislike Halloween. Do you know how many times I’ve had to drag my butt trick or treating over the years?

  There are friends in my life that I know I can depend on. Some of them I talk to frequently, others not so much. But those friendships are like having jewelry in a box, I know they are there. Some I pull out more frequently than others but they are all precious to me.

  I’ve learned that it is really important to acknowledge my happiness. It may be as simple as telling myself how lucky I am to get to see the sunrise when I’m driving in to Crossfit. Or the smiles we exchange when we watch Keely harvesting the celery that she planted and making her own celery and peanut butter snack. Driving down the road holding hands. Sitting in the sunroom with coffee, the newspaper, and a tangle of dogs, cats, and Keely. There are going to be times when everything is not all sunshine and rainbows. Those times are a lot easier to take when I have a reservoir of happiness and contentment to draw on.
  

  

  Typical Saturday morning

  
  Steve asked me what I wanted for my birthday. You know, I couldn’t think of a thing? I’ve got everything I could possible need or want. I have the wisdom to know that happiness isn’t tied up in things. Happiness is the people around me.

  Well, we had to come up with something for Keely to get me, because that is important for 10 year olds. So I made the suggestion, and Keely and Steve ordered a t-shirt for me. Keely wrapped it for and gave me a card. The artwork made it extra special.
  

  

  My birthday card

  
  Life is Good.

  0.000000 0.000000
  Posted in Life | 2 Comments | Tagged Crossfit, David Ray, Kat King, Keely Ray, Life is Good, Steve Cox, turning 55

• Holding My Dad’s Hand

  Posted at 12:23 pm by Michelle Ray Cox, on March 30, 2010

  While I hold my mom’s hand as she walks to help steady her, dad was never the hand holding type.  As he got older, he would use his cane, and then a walker, to get around.  He would reluctantly accept some help getting in and out of the car, but that was pretty much the limit of the contact he would accept.

   Last week I took Keely to see dad at the nursing home, the day after he was moved from home. He knew who she was, and reached over to take her hand. 

  

  Keely holding Grandpa's hand

  As we talked, Keely kept her hand on his.  That was the last time Keely saw her Grandpa.  I purposely kept her away as the process of death accelerated.  I wanted her to remember him as he was that day, frail yes, but still the Grandpa that she knew.

   

  Each day as I visited, there were changes.  The last few days, he withdrew into himself, sleeping, or drifting in and out of concisions, I’m not sure which.  It seemed obvious that he didn’t know we were there. 

  Holding his hand became a way for us to connect with him, to hope that he could feel our presence.  I could judge his progress on this short final journey by holding his hand.  I was amazed, that first day, at the strength of his grip.  He looked at me, squeezed my hand, we talked.

  

  Holding my dad's hand

  The last two days, his hand lay in mine; there was no grip, no strength at all.

  Lying awake last night, images in my head of these last days.  My brother Michael, holding dad’s hand and gently wiping the hair off his forehead, tears streaming down his face as he looked at his father lying in the hospital bed.   I wish I had thought to get a picture, but that image will be in my mind for a long time to come.  Michael took the lead in taking care of dad these last years, exasperated by the cantankerous man that my dad was, he was still fiercely protective of him, agonizing over this process. I saw a side of my brother that I had never seen, vulnerable, yet strong in so many ways, doing whatever was needed to take care of his dad. 

  My sister Anne-Marie came to my parent’s house almost every day.  Helping with dad’s care when he was still home, taking much of the burden off of mom. 

  Tracey spent several hours yesterday with dad.  I was there for a while, we talked.  We cried.  It was so very obvious that the time was getting short.

  

  Tracey holding dad's hand

  She held his hand the entire time.  

  One of the most difficult parts of this was watching mom with him.  It was hard for her, seeing him in the nursing home, watching the very visible decline in his body.  The first few days, there was recognition.  She teased him, he smiled. 

  I don’t know if he recognized these were the last days with family.  We made the conscious decision not to tell him.  There seemed to be no reason to cause him agitation or stress. And really, what could words tell him that he didn’t already know?

  I told him that Kathy had reminisced about him giving her a ride on the riding lawnmower, of hitting golf balls with him out at our farm.  He smiled.

  I gave the message, from Kathy and David, that they said “hello.” 

  What I was really doing was telling him goodbye for them. 

  Then came the time I took mom to see him and there was no conversation, there was no eye contact on his part.  He slept.  He didn’t know we were there.   

  Yesterday, his last day, she held his hand.  Talked to him.  As we were leaving his eyes opened.  She told him goodbye, that we were leaving.  She repeated it, louder this time.  For the first time in two days he looked at her, and he waved his hand goodbye.  Then he closed his eyes.

  As we walked out, mom and I smiled.  He had heard his wife’s voice, responded to her.   

  A few hours later he was gone.

  As I look back, I realize that the last voice he heard, really heard, was my mom talking to him.  Telling him that she loved him, and goodbye.  How fitting is that.  The voice that he loved for sixty five years was the last voice he heard.  The last words “I love you Mike”.

  

  Mom holding dad's hand

  0.000000 0.000000
  Posted in Uncategorized | 4 Comments | Tagged dad, death, Keely Ray, Marty Schuller, Michael Schuller, Mike Schuller, Mom, Tracey Campbell

• Archives

  Archives Select Month January 2022 December 2021 October 2020 August 2020 May 2020 April 2020 March 2020 January 2020 September 2019 August 2019 July 2019 March 2019 November 2018 September 2018 January 2018 November 2016 October 2016 September 2016 July 2016 June 2016 December 2014 September 2014 May 2014 April 2014 March 2014 February 2014 November 2013 October 2013 September 2013 June 2013 April 2013 March 2013 February 2013 January 2013 December 2012 November 2012 September 2012 August 2012 July 2012 June 2012 May 2012 January 2012 May 2011 February 2011 January 2011 July 2010 April 2010 March 2010 January 2010 December 2009 September 2009 July 2009 May 2009 April 2009 January 2009 December 2008

• Categories

  Categories Select Category Art  (1) Experiences  (14)    martial arts  (7) Life  (50)    Aging  (10)    Life after Covid 19  (2) politics  (1) Relationships  (18)    children  (2)    Parents  (3)    Pets  (4) Spiritual  (3)

• Follow Blog via Email

  Enter your email address to follow this blog and receive notifications of new posts by email.

  Email Address:

  Follow

• Check out my other blog!: Noodling Around

  Meow Wolf Santa Fe. A GREAT DAY TRIP!

  

  It’s a wonderland of creative thought provoking color visuals and sounds.