A Father Remembered - Three Years Later

Today is the third anniversary of my father's death (pictured above with my mom on their wedding day entering my grandparents' home where they held their reception). It was mid-morning three years ago when I received the call at my office that I needed to get to Charlottesville as quickly as possible because he was going fast. By the time arrived, he had already died - at home and in his own bed, which had been his wish after a lingering and painful battle with multiple myloma, a form a blood cancer. I missed a last goodbye by about an hour. As I have written before, he was not the easiest of fathers by any means even though in his way he did care so much about his children. My sister's death five years earlier had devastated both he and my mother beyond description. Complicating our relationship immensely, of course, was my at the time growing up, unacknowledged - even to myself -fact that I was gay. With my dad, like everyone else in my life, no one was ever allowed past the secret glass wall I maintained around myself.

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Sadly, he never got to meet the boyfriend, who I believe he would have loved. He did fully accept my former partner and the two of them used to chat on the phone from time to time. Even though my dad had his share of demons, growing up as an orphan as he had, when it came time, he deliverd what I needed most. My advice to parents: there is no greater gift that you can give to your gay son or daughter than to accept them for who they are and embrace the partner in their life as your child as well. My dad had stated once that he viewed it as having gained another son - which is as it should be. My dad taught me many things - some good and some not so good - but on the most important issue, he got it right.