My fiancé and I just spent a good part of the morning destroying countless heterosexual marriages and causing churches and bibles to burst into flames as we tore up the bedroom having awesome, consensual, monogamous, ragingly gay butt sex. Sorry, guess we still haven't been able to pray the gay away!
One more and I'll stop being an antisocial bitch and get back to my family. If my sisters had been lesbians, this totally could have been a dinner table conversation.
I came out on Thanksgiving the year that I turned 17. My middle sister Sandy (Aurora) was the only one who knew before that. I told her when I was 14 and she totally supported me.
Older sister Lisa was home from college and looking forward to some good home cooked food. She didn't expect it to be served up with a tearful revelation from her little brother. The conversation went like this.
Dad: Something wrong with your appetite, Adam? You getting sick? You're off your feed.
Me (holding Sandy's hand): Mom and Dad, I need to tell you something. I'm gay.
Parents stop and stare. Lisa keeps loading food onto her plate.
Mom: Oh...
Dad: Huh--you sure?
Me: (nodding, tears running down face) Yeah.
Dad: Oh. Well, fine. Stop this sob sister nonsense and let's eat dinner.
My dad was never one to say "I love you" in words. "I'm proud of you" was rare too, but when he said it, he meant it with all his heart.
He was proud of me when I graduated high school, when I got my drug use under control, when I got my bachelor's, when I got my master's, and when I got serious with Dylan. His response when I announced that Dylan and I were engaged was "Nice work, Son. You finally chose one that wasn't a complete idiot."
I wish that I'd understood my father better when I was younger. I wasted a lot of time being mad at him. There was no changing him and it would have been better if I'd known that. He was who he was, and he loved his family very strongly in his own completely non-sentimental way.
It's easy to see these things when you're on the outside looking in. Sometimes when you're in the situation, there is no amount of letters behind the name that can make things any clearer.
LCSW, and sometimes still blind to my own issues.
Dad's most comforting words were "quit worrying about it, nobody's perfect."
I'm going to try and take that wisdom to heart in the coming days.
The girls (my writing sisters) have been at me to start one of these Posterous blogs. Today seemed like a good time to do so.'
Thank you to my lovely Writing Sister Tempest LeTrope for her condolences regarding my dad's death. He passed away last night at 9:51 P.M. He had been struggling after having a massive heart attack on Valentine's Day. Just two days before my middle sister's birthday, which is really harsh. He was 79 years old.
I'm mucking about on the Internet for a while, kind of in shock, trying to pretend things are normal, misspelling every other word. I didn't sleep well last night. So here I am, creating this new blog in the most fucking faggoty colors I could possibly choose, because nothing bolsters my spirits more than pissing off homophobes. Even if no homophobes ever end up reading this blog, the idea that they might see it in all it's pink glory gives me a nasty little zing of glee.
I'll probably talk about my dad here. Our relationship wasn't perfect, but actually, he wasn't a homophobe. He was just super pragmatic and practical, and being gay in this world isn't very practical. He didn't quite get how anybody could be gay because he wasn't. But he didn't give me any shit about it. When I came out, he said "you sure?" and looked at me like I was nuts. But he already thought I was nuts because I'm such a wet blanket. He let it go after that.
Dad actually liked my fiancé. I think he really liked Dylan being a physician's assistant because he could ask all kinds of medical questions for free. Like I said, he was pragmatic. He also liked the fact that I finally chose a guy who wasn't a complete shithead for a change. He found my previous choices a little questionable. He wasn't the only one.
I know I need to try to get some sleep or I'm going to fall apart. I need to hold it together for Mom, and my sisters. I don't feel really sad right now, just numb. As a counselor I know how this goes. It will come in waves. Right now my mind is in denial.
Death isn't the end, it's just a transition. I'll see you again, Dad. Rest in peace.
Proud to have been your son, even if we didn't always see eye to eye.
Here come the tears.
Adam
