As a woman, Dr. Brewster...

For he past few days, I keep thinking about the movie, "Tootsie." Dustin Hoffman plays an annoying perfectionist actor who can't find work in New York until he pretends to be a woman. As a woman, he is loved as an actor...as a woman, he learns how to be a better man. He faces all the sexist stereotypes of the 1980s. How men are supposed to be, how women are supposed to be...and there are so many great lines in the movie. Somewhere toward the end, on love camera, he reveals to to world that Dorothy Michaels is really Michael Dorsey. Dabney Coleman, God bless his soul, has always been brilliant at playing the sexist male boss. And I still love the exchange "As a woman, Dr. Brewster. On her terms..." and you hear the direct (Coleman) speak quietly, "Oh hell, here come the terms..."

As a woman. I have been thinking about it all week. The whole week has been about women. This feels new for me. Personal history, I have not fared well in the company of women. First of all, being way too pretty, I could feel the hatred toward me as adults would lavish compliments on me and ignore others. I was humiliated by the unfairness of it all. I learned to hate being beautiful. My mother wanted a model and my father wanted be to be Miss America. All show, who cared what was in my brain? But there were a few amazing women. Real women. Real friends.

But mostly I preferred the company of boys or men. I was naive enough to think that they liked me for my brain. God was good that way. Mostly, though, it was true. I had a group of "male friends" that I preferred so much over the guys I would date. I could be really real with them. I still love to think of the night Fred, Bill and Chris left me in a bar (Hip's Bubble Room) because I had mouthed off to them...imagine me, mouthing off to anyone! But I drank beer and stared at a two headed turtle until they decided to come back for me. I offered them instruction on how to understand their girlfriends well. (and no, these were NOT Dr. Ruth kind of talks!) I just really liked that role in their lives. I loved them deeply, just not romantically.

My ex-husband, Bob, asked me at a high school reunion, "Didn't you know any GIRLS?"
I tilted my head to the side..."Yeah, I knew girls..." Just couldn't think of anyone on the spur of the moment. And besides, I remember, very few of them wanted to know me. Ouch.

So this whole female thing is just...different. Now I am older. Perhaps less annoying. Gravity is winning...and who is that old woman in the photo, anyway?

As a woman. This week has been filled with revelations. I see again how women are put down just because they are women...and my blood burns at the injustice of it. I have been watching how women cope with their womanhood. Some like it a lot. Some love it. From my point of view, it is coping. From their point of view, it is a way of life.

For whatever reasons, I just didn't want to go there. Too smart. See me as God sees me. Neither man nor woman, just spirit and soul...in a female shell.

^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^

That said, I turn to yesterday. I leaned into one woman I was visiting. I put my head on her shoulder and laughed. "Yeah," I said, "a priest would never get to do this."
I easily spend an hour with the people I visit. I bring Holy Communion, I read some theological treatises from the Liturgy of the Hours sometimes. Sometimes we pray psalms together.Sometimes I make up the words. Mostly I listen. And I have listened to a lot this week. I have heard great and deep truths. I have seen a lot of tears this week. Some joy, but many not. I have watched eyes open wide and say, "You think God wants me to do that?" And I nod. I have been humbled by the real gift of humanity. I love my life, my work, because I can love them.

And a priest has taught me how to do that. I would not have been able to learn it anywhere else. Yes, I have had lots of schooling and training in my of the helping trades. I have read many books on theology and psychology. I even have an analytical mind from studying topology and complex variables. I have lived a fairly full 50+ years. But, the priesthood...or should I say, the pastor...has taught me so much more. And it is what and who I am...as a woman.

I leaned into her shoulder and laughed. What we share is real. And it is balanced and fair. I don't come in with any feelings of superiority. I come in because we have become friends on some level. I don't talk down to her. I see her soul and it is beautiful. And the scary questions sometimes come up. Heaven and hell, forgiveness, loneliness, anger, confusion, doubt, truth...and coming to terms with who we are in this very moment. And maybe a bit about what might happen tomorrow. The priest and the woman.

All done in the context of the Eucharist. That is my reason for coming. Thanksgiving. Finding what to be thankful for that day.

The priest reassures, the priest calms, the priest listens.

A little boy in the hospital. Hurting so very much. I whisper to him. Will you let me pray for you? He is buried in his mothers arms. He nods. In my prayer, I remind him of the times he told me about meeting Jesus. And about his parents love, and that the doctors and nurses are trying to make him well and maybe that hurts sometimes and that Jesus is not going to let anything bad happen to him...and I see the little body relax just a bit and I see mom's tears and dad's tears...and I breathe deep and know that somewhere later, I will deal with my own feelings...but now, I must thank God that I get to do this work...in this moment...right now is all that matters. He is using me for something good.

As a woman.

Love, Cindy