Showing posts with label Family. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Family. Show all posts
Wednesday, November 12, 2008
Ouch
Sometimes words can really sting, I know that I am suppose to ignore statements made out of ignorance however we all know that is easier said than done. This past weekend my parents and I were talking about a politician that they do not like, my mom made the following statement "he is so crooked, remember when he tried to get his homosexual son off", I said that his son was not a homosexual, his son was a rapists, she answered back "homosexual or rapists, whats the difference". Ouch Mom, I have to say it is partly age that makes her say this, she was not like that years ago, now she is at the age where everything and everyone is wrong, crooked or out to get people. Still however when I am suddenly slapped with something like that, I can't help wonder how they will view me if I told them.
Wednesday, October 15, 2008
The 'It' Couple
A funny thing happened on the way to being a gay couple, we have become the 'it' couple or 'in' couple or what ever you call the people that everyone seems to want to have over for dinner. I started to notice this the last few weeks. I wonder if it is because we are gay and it is the 'in' thing to do in having a gay couple over, well at least I hope not. I am not sure if it is because we don't bring kids in tow with us or maybe more like we are both very easy going and put the hosts at ease. We both have a good sense of humour and like to play around with our friends. We are also open to trying new foods etc so that is probably another reason. It feels nice to be wanted, welcomed and well fed, sometimes it seems like our weekends are booked up and I feel guilty when trying to avoid a dinner. I guess too it is probably because we are a couple now and anyone who has been single for a long time knows how single people can be left out of gatherings, couples just seem to do more things together. I wonder if we have become the 'cool people', the ones to have over. I really don't mind if it turns out that we are a bit of a novelty for some people to have over, it will give people a chance to get to know us better and see we are just a very abnormally normal couple. I know with Dave's family, it is to get to know me better and I appreciate that, they have been very welcoming. Most likely it is because we are both so adorable... did I mention modest too?
Friday, October 10, 2008
Stash
In the 'old days' like when my grandparents were young, many of the old farmers and lumber men in the area where I grew up, had drinking problems. Being of Irish or Scottish background, it was often a common thing. No one ever spoke the word 'alcoholic' more like they would say 'spree' or 'binge'. This way no one had to admit that there was a problem. People covered for their family members drinking and thought no one knew, when actually everyone knew.
There would come a time when a wife or mother would reach her breaking point, she would haul the man down to the local priest or minster and have him swear a pledge never to drink again. The man not actually being able to stop would create a 'stash'. My father and his friends would often tell us younger lads about the old folks stash. They spoke of finding bottles of whisky or beer hidden in stable mangers, hay stacks, water troughs, wood piles, under stumps or almost any place where the women would not find them. To this day, sometimes along fence lines when an dead tree falls over, there will be a small bottle tangled in the roots.
I was lucky in that my parents viewed drinking as a waste of money and they also saw it as a character weakness or flaw, so I was able to avoid any hardships brought on by parents drinking as some of my friends went through. My Dad does have a 'stash' however and it is one of his quirks that I find so funny. The problem is my father is suppose to watch what he eats, however he always had a major sweet tooth, the sweeter-fattier-gooey-sugarier something is, the better he likes it. He will put jam or syrup on cake and cookies if you don't watch him. My Mom takes care of him and makes him low fat meals watching what he eats. He however hides goodies from my mom because, trust me if she finds out he is going to remember the lecture! The worse place of all is his old pickup, it is a virtual crack-house of goodies. From chocolate bars in the glove compartment to cookies, little cakes, pop, chips under or behind the seat, you will find almost anything to satisfy a junk food craving. The truck is the safest spot at the moment as his dog also realized what he is up to and will swipe cookies if she can find them.
I used to turn him in, that is right, I ratted him out! I did not want to lose him as he had health problems. I used to tell him "Dad you can hide that stuff from Mom, but you can't hide it from your heart". Now years later however I see it different, he is in his 70's and worked hard all his life, he will not be with us forever so why not let him enjoy a secret cookie. It may sound strange to say but I would rather he passed on happy doing what he likes at a younger age than for him to be in his 90's locked up in a home. It also does not hurt to know where I can get a candy bar when I want to cheat on my diet as well!
There would come a time when a wife or mother would reach her breaking point, she would haul the man down to the local priest or minster and have him swear a pledge never to drink again. The man not actually being able to stop would create a 'stash'. My father and his friends would often tell us younger lads about the old folks stash. They spoke of finding bottles of whisky or beer hidden in stable mangers, hay stacks, water troughs, wood piles, under stumps or almost any place where the women would not find them. To this day, sometimes along fence lines when an dead tree falls over, there will be a small bottle tangled in the roots.
I was lucky in that my parents viewed drinking as a waste of money and they also saw it as a character weakness or flaw, so I was able to avoid any hardships brought on by parents drinking as some of my friends went through. My Dad does have a 'stash' however and it is one of his quirks that I find so funny. The problem is my father is suppose to watch what he eats, however he always had a major sweet tooth, the sweeter-fattier-gooey-sugarier something is, the better he likes it. He will put jam or syrup on cake and cookies if you don't watch him. My Mom takes care of him and makes him low fat meals watching what he eats. He however hides goodies from my mom because, trust me if she finds out he is going to remember the lecture! The worse place of all is his old pickup, it is a virtual crack-house of goodies. From chocolate bars in the glove compartment to cookies, little cakes, pop, chips under or behind the seat, you will find almost anything to satisfy a junk food craving. The truck is the safest spot at the moment as his dog also realized what he is up to and will swipe cookies if she can find them.
I used to turn him in, that is right, I ratted him out! I did not want to lose him as he had health problems. I used to tell him "Dad you can hide that stuff from Mom, but you can't hide it from your heart". Now years later however I see it different, he is in his 70's and worked hard all his life, he will not be with us forever so why not let him enjoy a secret cookie. It may sound strange to say but I would rather he passed on happy doing what he likes at a younger age than for him to be in his 90's locked up in a home. It also does not hurt to know where I can get a candy bar when I want to cheat on my diet as well!
Wednesday, August 27, 2008
The Visitor
This past week was, as promised by the weather man, beautiful and sunny. Due to the weather I went home to help out the folks make hay while the sun still shines as they say, literally! It can be dirty and hard work but sometimes it is almost refreshing being a straight forward task that gets a person out on the land and into the sunshine. I know these will soon be the last days I need to help out like this, as not only is fall drawing near, but my Dad is in his early 70's and will retire one of these days, this year or next. Farming is in some people's blood and they just refuse to quit until their body does.
I still really like the country and miss parts of living there, I like city life as well but I would not want to live in the down town core. My ideal place would be about ten to twenty acres just outside the city. Far enough to be quiet and have space to breath, however close enough to have all the extras within a thirty minute drive.
On my third day playing farmer boy, it was a really hot day and I had stopped my tractor to take a break (did you like that, yes a gay man driving a tractor, very butch right). I was thinking about how peaceful it was around where I was working and how family members worked this land for generations. Where the fence lines where placed and how the fields were planned and cleared, had been decided by family members who were long dead by the time I came along. I suppose they would be rolling in their graves to know the dream of this farm ends with my Dad, that he had a gay son who would rather work in a comfy office and will never have children of his own. Sometimes I get nostalgic like that but then I think, even if I was straight and took over this place, does not mean that my children would be interested in staying. Many kids grew up here and left to spread out all over Canada and the States.
Sitting there thinking these thoughts, my peace was suddenly broken by the sight of a motor cycle making it's way through the forest paths to get to where I was working. At first I felt pretty ticked, I was thinking it was some of the local goof-ball teens that drive everyone nuts with their dirt bikes and ATVs, I figured they found the road and were trespassing. I pulled out my shotgun, no just kidding that is a hill-billy thing, not a Canadian farmer thing. As the bike approached I thought to myself "does that bike ever look like Dave's bike" then as he came near I suddenly realized it was Dave! I had a lot of emotions, I was so happy to see him, I had been missing him but I was also thinking, "oh shit my boyfriend is here, with my parents here as well!" He pulled up to where I was sitting and even though he had his helmet on, I could see he had a big grin on his face. As he got off his bike, our little red Australian cattle dog who was snuggled up with me, took one look at this six foot three thing in a suit and had a complete melt down, normally she loves everyone but I honestly think she wanted to take him down a foot or two! Dave is not afraid of dogs but she certainly made him back away from me. After they made friends we sat down in the grass and I asked him how the heck he found me. He had found our place by remembering my Dad's name and then met my Mom at the house, she then told him how to find me. He said as soon as he said he was looking for me, she said to him "oh your Steve's friend" they had a nice talk and then he came looking for me. My Dad was in another field and drove over in his old pickup, I was wondering how he would react as he would be tired. When he pulled up he looked at Dave's sport bike and asked if he wanted to trade him the bike for his old truck, whew! A good sign Dad was not mad at someone showing up in the middle of work, I thought he might be annoyed but he was interested in meeting Dave. They talked for a short while.
We had a lot of work to do so my father excused himself and went back to work. Dave teased me for a kiss, I said "not on your life", don't worry Dave does not kiss me in front of his Dad even though his Dad has no problem with it, he is just a bugger to pick at me like that. Later that evening I over heard my parents talking about Dave so I listened in. My Dad with his Irish roots that were not lost over the past generations said, "he seems like a nice young lad" and my mother said "yes and he is so tall, in that suit with his helmet on, no wonder the dog went nuts, he must of looked like a big Sasquatch to her!" Now of course I told this to Dave when I saw him next and we both had a good laugh over it. I also have to hand it to Dave in that he knows how to operate around me. If I were going to introduce him to my parents, I probably would have fussed and worried about it for days, this way he just stopped in like any of my friends and every thing went smooth, no big deal.
Back in the city over this past weekend, we happened to be down town and who should we bump into but my sister. She was glad to finally meet Dave and we laughed as I said this is my 'boyfriend' Dave. They seemed to hit it off and she invited him to come with me to her annual Halloween dinner. She even teased him by saying he had to wear a costume or she would make him wear a dress, he got her back by saying he would wear his own dress that he keeps in the closet. She looked at him and I cracked up because I could tell by her face she was not sure if he was joking or serious. Then he said no that him wearing a dress was never going to happen, "whew" on my part. Later he joked about wanting to meet my family and having done it all in one weekend. Well so there, Dave met the folks, another step taken. I figure they will either just see him as a friend or if they figure it out some day, it will be a lot easier to accept if they already know and like him.
I still really like the country and miss parts of living there, I like city life as well but I would not want to live in the down town core. My ideal place would be about ten to twenty acres just outside the city. Far enough to be quiet and have space to breath, however close enough to have all the extras within a thirty minute drive.
On my third day playing farmer boy, it was a really hot day and I had stopped my tractor to take a break (did you like that, yes a gay man driving a tractor, very butch right). I was thinking about how peaceful it was around where I was working and how family members worked this land for generations. Where the fence lines where placed and how the fields were planned and cleared, had been decided by family members who were long dead by the time I came along. I suppose they would be rolling in their graves to know the dream of this farm ends with my Dad, that he had a gay son who would rather work in a comfy office and will never have children of his own. Sometimes I get nostalgic like that but then I think, even if I was straight and took over this place, does not mean that my children would be interested in staying. Many kids grew up here and left to spread out all over Canada and the States.
Sitting there thinking these thoughts, my peace was suddenly broken by the sight of a motor cycle making it's way through the forest paths to get to where I was working. At first I felt pretty ticked, I was thinking it was some of the local goof-ball teens that drive everyone nuts with their dirt bikes and ATVs, I figured they found the road and were trespassing. I pulled out my shotgun, no just kidding that is a hill-billy thing, not a Canadian farmer thing. As the bike approached I thought to myself "does that bike ever look like Dave's bike" then as he came near I suddenly realized it was Dave! I had a lot of emotions, I was so happy to see him, I had been missing him but I was also thinking, "oh shit my boyfriend is here, with my parents here as well!" He pulled up to where I was sitting and even though he had his helmet on, I could see he had a big grin on his face. As he got off his bike, our little red Australian cattle dog who was snuggled up with me, took one look at this six foot three thing in a suit and had a complete melt down, normally she loves everyone but I honestly think she wanted to take him down a foot or two! Dave is not afraid of dogs but she certainly made him back away from me. After they made friends we sat down in the grass and I asked him how the heck he found me. He had found our place by remembering my Dad's name and then met my Mom at the house, she then told him how to find me. He said as soon as he said he was looking for me, she said to him "oh your Steve's friend" they had a nice talk and then he came looking for me. My Dad was in another field and drove over in his old pickup, I was wondering how he would react as he would be tired. When he pulled up he looked at Dave's sport bike and asked if he wanted to trade him the bike for his old truck, whew! A good sign Dad was not mad at someone showing up in the middle of work, I thought he might be annoyed but he was interested in meeting Dave. They talked for a short while.
We had a lot of work to do so my father excused himself and went back to work. Dave teased me for a kiss, I said "not on your life", don't worry Dave does not kiss me in front of his Dad even though his Dad has no problem with it, he is just a bugger to pick at me like that. Later that evening I over heard my parents talking about Dave so I listened in. My Dad with his Irish roots that were not lost over the past generations said, "he seems like a nice young lad" and my mother said "yes and he is so tall, in that suit with his helmet on, no wonder the dog went nuts, he must of looked like a big Sasquatch to her!" Now of course I told this to Dave when I saw him next and we both had a good laugh over it. I also have to hand it to Dave in that he knows how to operate around me. If I were going to introduce him to my parents, I probably would have fussed and worried about it for days, this way he just stopped in like any of my friends and every thing went smooth, no big deal.
Back in the city over this past weekend, we happened to be down town and who should we bump into but my sister. She was glad to finally meet Dave and we laughed as I said this is my 'boyfriend' Dave. They seemed to hit it off and she invited him to come with me to her annual Halloween dinner. She even teased him by saying he had to wear a costume or she would make him wear a dress, he got her back by saying he would wear his own dress that he keeps in the closet. She looked at him and I cracked up because I could tell by her face she was not sure if he was joking or serious. Then he said no that him wearing a dress was never going to happen, "whew" on my part. Later he joked about wanting to meet my family and having done it all in one weekend. Well so there, Dave met the folks, another step taken. I figure they will either just see him as a friend or if they figure it out some day, it will be a lot easier to accept if they already know and like him.
Saturday, November 10, 2007
Dream time Dad
Once a group of us had watched the movie Spanglish with Adam Sandler. After we (all guys) were discussing it, I said the thing I got from that movie was this. The little girl that played Sandler's daughter was not "Hollywood pretty" but she and her character had a spark that came through loud and clear. I said that I would be so proud to have a daughter like that, in fact I would prefer to have a child turn out like her than one that was really pretty but shallow and vain, she was bright, funny and had layers to her personality. The reaction was mixed, single guys with no children said no, that it would be better if she was pretty, that things would be easier for her, however the Dads in the group nodded their heads in agreement, they understood, love your child no matter what but it is more important in how they turn out as a person than what they look like.
Since I have known that I'm gay from a young age, I've always also known I will never be a Dad. This did make me a little sad from time to time but it never really hit me hard until one night after a dream I had. When I entered into my thirties I guess the 'Dad' clock decided to strike the time running out alarm to try to wake me up. It was one of those alternate life dreams where I was straight, it was so detailed and felt very real to me. I was in a grocery store getting stuff for supper, I knew in my dream I had a wife at home waiting on me to hurry and bring something to make. As I was getting chicken I heard a familiar little boy's voice behind me, "Daddy can I have this" when I turned around there was a little boy coming up to me with candies cupped in his hands. In the dream I instantly knew that this boy was my son, that his name was Colin, that he was four years old and also in that instant I never felt so much love for a person that I felt towards him. With that sudden wave of emotion I could feel myself begin to awaken, I did not want to leave, I did not want to go back to being the gay guy, I wanted to stay in this world, a straight man, a young Dad out getting groceries with his son. I felt myself slipping away so I said to my son, "come here Colin Daddy needs a hug" I held on tight to him, he said "whats wrong Dad" I told him nothing so as not to frighten him and whispered good bye as I woke up. When I was completely awake it hit me hard, sudden great sorrow at the loss of never having that dream come true. Strange as it sounds, I don't know any little boy named Colin that looked like him, me in another time or dimension, if you believe in that sort of thing, possibly, I don't know. I some times wonder if that was a way for my mind to say good-bye to a life that I will never lead.
I decided to just accept the fact that Fatherhood is not for me, put those feelings in a bottle and place them on a shelf somewhere in the back of my mind and move on, there is no use in dwelling on something that will not happen. I guess some of these feelings have stirred up a little again because I have started reading Cooper's Corridor. I don't know him, he doesn't know of me, we are not blog friends, I just like the beauty of his blog. The way he writes, how he sees the world and I admire him greatly for the huge step he has taken at his young age to be responsible for two little lives. Some days when I whine about being too chicken to get out and meet people, I read his blog and think how lucky I am that this is my only problem. Like with the movie Spanglish and that sweet little girl, even though Cooper's kids are cute as kittens, when I read his blog I keep thinking that if I had a son, I would hope he would turn out to be a person like Cooper himself. Through Cooper's blog I read Kevin's post of what some children go through and I realized how blessed I was growing up. My family is middle class, we did not have a lot of extras but I was so lucky in that I grew up in the big white house, my parents were always there for us, they were solid people that let us put down roots, I had a close extended family and even a dog named Lassie, what more could a kid ask for. I am a little surprised to hear that there are so many children that need help. I always was under the impression that there were line ups of people waiting to adopt, maybe that is just for babies.
Sad to think there are people who don't want gays adopting, I guess they feel it is better to have a straight junkie raising a child than a loving gay parent. The argument that the child will grow up gay is so pointless, most gay people were raised by straight people, the child will grow up more tolerant that is all. Maybe that is the fear, maybe some people are afraid of a sub group of young straight people who can see through certain lies. Maybe their fear is that the child would be less open to being brained washed, interesting if you think about it because we know how certain groups like to control people.
Since I have known that I'm gay from a young age, I've always also known I will never be a Dad. This did make me a little sad from time to time but it never really hit me hard until one night after a dream I had. When I entered into my thirties I guess the 'Dad' clock decided to strike the time running out alarm to try to wake me up. It was one of those alternate life dreams where I was straight, it was so detailed and felt very real to me. I was in a grocery store getting stuff for supper, I knew in my dream I had a wife at home waiting on me to hurry and bring something to make. As I was getting chicken I heard a familiar little boy's voice behind me, "Daddy can I have this" when I turned around there was a little boy coming up to me with candies cupped in his hands. In the dream I instantly knew that this boy was my son, that his name was Colin, that he was four years old and also in that instant I never felt so much love for a person that I felt towards him. With that sudden wave of emotion I could feel myself begin to awaken, I did not want to leave, I did not want to go back to being the gay guy, I wanted to stay in this world, a straight man, a young Dad out getting groceries with his son. I felt myself slipping away so I said to my son, "come here Colin Daddy needs a hug" I held on tight to him, he said "whats wrong Dad" I told him nothing so as not to frighten him and whispered good bye as I woke up. When I was completely awake it hit me hard, sudden great sorrow at the loss of never having that dream come true. Strange as it sounds, I don't know any little boy named Colin that looked like him, me in another time or dimension, if you believe in that sort of thing, possibly, I don't know. I some times wonder if that was a way for my mind to say good-bye to a life that I will never lead.
I decided to just accept the fact that Fatherhood is not for me, put those feelings in a bottle and place them on a shelf somewhere in the back of my mind and move on, there is no use in dwelling on something that will not happen. I guess some of these feelings have stirred up a little again because I have started reading Cooper's Corridor. I don't know him, he doesn't know of me, we are not blog friends, I just like the beauty of his blog. The way he writes, how he sees the world and I admire him greatly for the huge step he has taken at his young age to be responsible for two little lives. Some days when I whine about being too chicken to get out and meet people, I read his blog and think how lucky I am that this is my only problem. Like with the movie Spanglish and that sweet little girl, even though Cooper's kids are cute as kittens, when I read his blog I keep thinking that if I had a son, I would hope he would turn out to be a person like Cooper himself. Through Cooper's blog I read Kevin's post of what some children go through and I realized how blessed I was growing up. My family is middle class, we did not have a lot of extras but I was so lucky in that I grew up in the big white house, my parents were always there for us, they were solid people that let us put down roots, I had a close extended family and even a dog named Lassie, what more could a kid ask for. I am a little surprised to hear that there are so many children that need help. I always was under the impression that there were line ups of people waiting to adopt, maybe that is just for babies.
Sad to think there are people who don't want gays adopting, I guess they feel it is better to have a straight junkie raising a child than a loving gay parent. The argument that the child will grow up gay is so pointless, most gay people were raised by straight people, the child will grow up more tolerant that is all. Maybe that is the fear, maybe some people are afraid of a sub group of young straight people who can see through certain lies. Maybe their fear is that the child would be less open to being brained washed, interesting if you think about it because we know how certain groups like to control people.
Monday, September 24, 2007
Meet The Parents
Hey Mom, Dad, this is my boyfriend, that is a sentence which I don't think I will ever be able to say in my life. It has nothing to do with the fact of not having anyone at the moment, but over the fact of the situation I have put myself in by waiting so long to come out. I know hiding from my parents was wrong and that I should have told them but took the cowards way out instead. Now I have put myself in a corner due to time and age. My parents had me in their thirties so now they are well into their senior years. I know if I only had the courage to have told them in their fifties, they would have been upset, angry, there would have been yelling and probably a lot of tears from me and my Mom but I know they would have come round and we would have worked something out. My parents grew up and stayed in a small farming community in a remote part of Canada. They missed the wild sixties and disco seventies, nothing changed much for them until the eighties. Their view on life is very different from most people and yet a lot of times that is one of the things I am proud of them for. They have always been old fashioned in their thinking and in their younger days they were strict with us but not totally narrow minded. If I had told them back then, they would have gotten angry but they are not the type to say "get out and don't come back". They are reasonable enough that if a doctor or counsellor told them there was nothing wrong with me and being gay can not be cured, they would accept that. They would still expect me to be decent and lead a respectable life and you can't beat that guidance. I don't think they would ever have gotten comfortable enough to accept a boyfriend as just that, my partner and lover but they would accept him, if they could see that he was good to me, as someone important to me.
I am close to my parents, they are a big part of my life, in fact they are my life. I try to see them at least once a week or call them, they are less than a two hour drive from me. While driving up to see them this weekend, all I could think of was that I have that barrier feeling between them and myself. The one similar to the feeling that I used to have between my friends and I before I told them. I hate that feeling that they might find out, that I have to hide things from them, I feel dishonest, like I am lying to them and it weighs on my mind. The corner that I have backed myself into as I said earlier is one of age. When I visit them, it now feels like I am visiting my grandparents, because of time they have become their parents. I miss the strong people they once were, don't get me wrong they are still active but a person in their seventies does not handle life like a person in their fifties. More and more I see the rolls reversing, where I have to watch out for them and this brings me to my dilemma. I don't think I can now tell them I am gay, that would be such a blow I really fear how it would affect their health. They are at the point where small things to us are huge to them and I can see them not being able to understand and process what it means for me to be gay. The stress would play on them for weeks and the results of that scare me. They kept the monsters away from me so I could sleep in peace at night, now I feel it is my turn to do the same for them.
The other side is that it will affect me getting out and dating, starting my own life. I can't ask a boyfriend to live the life of a bad sitcom where the parents come to town and everyone scrambles to make things appear not out of ordinary according to straight people. I told a friend of a situation that happened recently with this being a small city. One day while off work, I took a wrong turn that lead me to an old mall I had not been to in some time. I thought I would go in and grab something to eat. I saw a gay couple, you could tell they were in love and I wondered what it would be like to be able to just walk around and "be" with someone you loved, as I rounded the corner there was my Mom, and she pointed over to my Dad eating ice cream with a big grin on his face. All I could think of was, if I had a boyfriend with me then "busted"! I asked my sister what she thought about me telling them, her reply was "nooooooo"! She reminded me about their deep denial of gay couples that we sort of know. Somewhere in their mind they know certain couples are gay but always pretend that the people are just really good friends.
I am really torn over this subject but I can't do anything that could cause them harm. Part of me also wonders how they would see a gay son, they have made anti gay remarks and it does hurt. It could put up a bigger barrier in that they would feel they don't know me anymore or never really knew me. If I never tell, I will come away with one incident last year that does give me some peace of mind. I was with my Dad and a man that I knew since we were boys drove by. My Dad said "that is Lou" I said the last time I saw him we were teens and asked what was he up to now, Dad replied "he has a good job with the government and he bought a house in the next town with Rod, they are partners, they live together". Shocked I asked "you mean they are gay" and he said "yes but you know they both are hard workers and never bother anyone so who is to judge them". It may not be fair that I never gave them the chance to really know me, and the opportunity to show me how they would have coped with it, but I can't change the past. For now I will have to take my Dad's words as a stand in for what I hoped he would say if I had of told him, "who is to judge".
I am close to my parents, they are a big part of my life, in fact they are my life. I try to see them at least once a week or call them, they are less than a two hour drive from me. While driving up to see them this weekend, all I could think of was that I have that barrier feeling between them and myself. The one similar to the feeling that I used to have between my friends and I before I told them. I hate that feeling that they might find out, that I have to hide things from them, I feel dishonest, like I am lying to them and it weighs on my mind. The corner that I have backed myself into as I said earlier is one of age. When I visit them, it now feels like I am visiting my grandparents, because of time they have become their parents. I miss the strong people they once were, don't get me wrong they are still active but a person in their seventies does not handle life like a person in their fifties. More and more I see the rolls reversing, where I have to watch out for them and this brings me to my dilemma. I don't think I can now tell them I am gay, that would be such a blow I really fear how it would affect their health. They are at the point where small things to us are huge to them and I can see them not being able to understand and process what it means for me to be gay. The stress would play on them for weeks and the results of that scare me. They kept the monsters away from me so I could sleep in peace at night, now I feel it is my turn to do the same for them.
The other side is that it will affect me getting out and dating, starting my own life. I can't ask a boyfriend to live the life of a bad sitcom where the parents come to town and everyone scrambles to make things appear not out of ordinary according to straight people. I told a friend of a situation that happened recently with this being a small city. One day while off work, I took a wrong turn that lead me to an old mall I had not been to in some time. I thought I would go in and grab something to eat. I saw a gay couple, you could tell they were in love and I wondered what it would be like to be able to just walk around and "be" with someone you loved, as I rounded the corner there was my Mom, and she pointed over to my Dad eating ice cream with a big grin on his face. All I could think of was, if I had a boyfriend with me then "busted"! I asked my sister what she thought about me telling them, her reply was "nooooooo"! She reminded me about their deep denial of gay couples that we sort of know. Somewhere in their mind they know certain couples are gay but always pretend that the people are just really good friends.
I am really torn over this subject but I can't do anything that could cause them harm. Part of me also wonders how they would see a gay son, they have made anti gay remarks and it does hurt. It could put up a bigger barrier in that they would feel they don't know me anymore or never really knew me. If I never tell, I will come away with one incident last year that does give me some peace of mind. I was with my Dad and a man that I knew since we were boys drove by. My Dad said "that is Lou" I said the last time I saw him we were teens and asked what was he up to now, Dad replied "he has a good job with the government and he bought a house in the next town with Rod, they are partners, they live together". Shocked I asked "you mean they are gay" and he said "yes but you know they both are hard workers and never bother anyone so who is to judge them". It may not be fair that I never gave them the chance to really know me, and the opportunity to show me how they would have coped with it, but I can't change the past. For now I will have to take my Dad's words as a stand in for what I hoped he would say if I had of told him, "who is to judge".
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