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I promise I won't always hijack my blog to write about my dad, but on the heels of the first Father's Day since my dad died, today would have been his 68th birthday. I sit here reflecting further, trying to connect to him emotionally/psychically, swimming in memories, thankful that the experience of walking him to his death shifted the focus of my mind and heart to sweet moments rather than sites of pain and struggle in our relationship. Thankful, too, that it's further pushing and inspiring my own political analysis, helping me put words to what's been (growing) inside. I continue to work through this complicated web of feelings, continue the process of opening my heart, continue looking for words and ways to speak, heal, connect, create an integrated/politicized identity/experience that feels both respectful and loving to myself and my experience and accountable/honest to others. And I think about how to best open doors for others to come through and speak (I don't mean to imply here that others need my assistance to speak, but that I strive to be always-conscious of the privilege being affiliated with Bitch brings, and the many ways I can actively work toward building an inclusive and collective movement for liberation). About experiences and identities that are often overlooked or ignored. About family politics... The politics of love and death... The politics of the ways we live our lives... The politics of unlearning and (re)building... The politics of justice, compassion, home, intimacy, "safety"...