I’m not sure what triggered it, but I had repeated dreams last night about my sister who died in 2001. Perhaps it was because a dear friend is struggling with the lost of his mother. Maybe it was from talking about my coming out saga with a female reader of this blog that I met through the Second Saturday Salon in January. In any event, I woke up this morning still thinking about my sister. Ironically, she is the only one of my siblings that never got to know who I really was as a gay man - even though her death played a large role consciously and I suspect subconsciously in leading me to make the final decision to come out as opposed to killing myself as I contemplated frequently.
As long time readers know, it was an unplanned, unsought same sex physical encounter in 1999 that forced me to have to face the truth about my sexual orientation. However, it was another two agonizing years before I ultimately came out to my former wife. In some ways, but for my sister’s untimely death in April, 2001 – April 12, 2001 at around 1:00 PM to be exact – that after some months of internal debate and despair broke the dam of hesitation, fear and immobilization that had plagued me since September of 1999, I might have remained in the closet or had a “surfing accident” that would have led to me drowning. My sister was a remarkable person – extremely smart, very pretty, a cheerleader and outstanding athlete in high school, honor graduate from college, one who expected nothing less than perfection from herself, and an amazing dedicated mother to her two children. After earning a Masters Degree in Chemistry, she went on to be chemist for the Navy and did complex analysis of metals and post crash investigative work, based first in this area and later in Florida. Unfortunately, she was in what we later discovered to have been an unhappy marriage that she stayed in until her husband left her. I believe she did it for what she thought was the sake of her children. In addition, having been raised fairly conservative Catholic - I suspect she believed that she had to stay married due to the dictates of the Church. Like me, she was one to do what was expected and lived most all of her life for the needs and/or expectations of others.
Career wise she was definitely coming into her own and making a new start after her divorce when she received a terminal diagnosis of lung cancer even though she had never smoked (I still suspect the chemicals she used in her job or exposure to radiation somewhere was the true source of her affliction). She put up a heroic struggle against the caner, but eventual lost the fight. In addition to trying to mourning her, I found myself having to plan her entire funeral and burial and also as both the executor of her estate and trustee of the trust she had established for her children. It was an emotional nightmare and her hostile ex-husband made for a toxic atmosphere. Perhaps the hardest thing of all was being in her house in Florida alone – her children were staying with their dad since she had died at home and they did not want to be in the house – and having to arrange for its sale, the storage of furniture, etc. Being alone in her house, among all of her things, and trying to grasp that she was really gone was so incredibly hard. Compounding the pain was the knowledge that she had not known happiness so much of the time – or at least such is my belief. Rather, she had “played by the rules” and tried to be what she believed was expected of her. Just as I had done throughout my whole life up to that point in time. And now she was gone and would never have the chance to be truly who she was.
Sadly, due to the “glass wall” I had always placed between myself and others to guard my horrible secret, I never got to know my sister as fully as I might have. Similarly, I had never allowed her – or anyone else – to really know me. As a result, I doubt she ever knew how much I loved her or how wonderful I thought she was. Her death made me look seriously at my own screwed up life and made me realize that my fate would be the same if I did not do something. I believed I could (1) take the suicide route and leave plenty of life insurance proceeds to care for my wife and kids, or (2) I could try to be who I really was. The fact that I am writing this post shows that I chose the latter. Thank you Kitty for helping me be who I really am.
As long time readers know, it was an unplanned, unsought same sex physical encounter in 1999 that forced me to have to face the truth about my sexual orientation. However, it was another two agonizing years before I ultimately came out to my former wife. In some ways, but for my sister’s untimely death in April, 2001 – April 12, 2001 at around 1:00 PM to be exact – that after some months of internal debate and despair broke the dam of hesitation, fear and immobilization that had plagued me since September of 1999, I might have remained in the closet or had a “surfing accident” that would have led to me drowning. My sister was a remarkable person – extremely smart, very pretty, a cheerleader and outstanding athlete in high school, honor graduate from college, one who expected nothing less than perfection from herself, and an amazing dedicated mother to her two children. After earning a Masters Degree in Chemistry, she went on to be chemist for the Navy and did complex analysis of metals and post crash investigative work, based first in this area and later in Florida. Unfortunately, she was in what we later discovered to have been an unhappy marriage that she stayed in until her husband left her. I believe she did it for what she thought was the sake of her children. In addition, having been raised fairly conservative Catholic - I suspect she believed that she had to stay married due to the dictates of the Church. Like me, she was one to do what was expected and lived most all of her life for the needs and/or expectations of others.
Career wise she was definitely coming into her own and making a new start after her divorce when she received a terminal diagnosis of lung cancer even though she had never smoked (I still suspect the chemicals she used in her job or exposure to radiation somewhere was the true source of her affliction). She put up a heroic struggle against the caner, but eventual lost the fight. In addition to trying to mourning her, I found myself having to plan her entire funeral and burial and also as both the executor of her estate and trustee of the trust she had established for her children. It was an emotional nightmare and her hostile ex-husband made for a toxic atmosphere. Perhaps the hardest thing of all was being in her house in Florida alone – her children were staying with their dad since she had died at home and they did not want to be in the house – and having to arrange for its sale, the storage of furniture, etc. Being alone in her house, among all of her things, and trying to grasp that she was really gone was so incredibly hard. Compounding the pain was the knowledge that she had not known happiness so much of the time – or at least such is my belief. Rather, she had “played by the rules” and tried to be what she believed was expected of her. Just as I had done throughout my whole life up to that point in time. And now she was gone and would never have the chance to be truly who she was.
Sadly, due to the “glass wall” I had always placed between myself and others to guard my horrible secret, I never got to know my sister as fully as I might have. Similarly, I had never allowed her – or anyone else – to really know me. As a result, I doubt she ever knew how much I loved her or how wonderful I thought she was. Her death made me look seriously at my own screwed up life and made me realize that my fate would be the same if I did not do something. I believed I could (1) take the suicide route and leave plenty of life insurance proceeds to care for my wife and kids, or (2) I could try to be who I really was. The fact that I am writing this post shows that I chose the latter. Thank you Kitty for helping me be who I really am.
1 comment:
Wow. Amazing woman. Wonderful post. It is so sad that so many people live miserable lives because they are afraid to be honest with themselves about who they are or what they need.
I am sorry for you loss. I am, however, glad for the lessons you gained through it. You are now working at being the real Michael, not that angry attorney guy married to that lady.
Bless you, Michael.
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