A Father Remembered

Today would have been my father's 91st birthday.  He died in September, 2006, on of all possible dates my son's birthday.  Needless to say, it's been a bitter sweet day for me with thoughts of my father lingering at the back of my mind.  As long time readers know, my relationship with my dad was not always that good.  In part because of his difficult childhood and youth since he was orphaned at the age of 3 years old.  Then there was the glass wall I erected between myself and virtually everyone as I struggled to try to deny to myself that I was gay and I feared letting anyone too close to me because of my fear that they'd discover "my secret" even though I had not even conceded to myself that I was gay.  Over my 37 years in the closet I missed so many opportunities to be close to others because of my fear of rejection.  

When I did finally come out I was blessed to have parents who accepted me totally and never flinched at standing by me.   So many gays have not been as lucky and have faced rejection by parents and family.  That's why in honor of my parents I funded the initial endowment for the Hamar/HRBOR Scholarship ( a four year scholarship) for graduating high school seniors who face financial need either because of family rejection or through financial  limitations.  My contribution allows for a grant every four years, but to offer the scholarship, HRBOR needs to raise another $75,000.00 - hence the contribution link on this blog.  I hope readers will consider making a tax deductible gift.

The photo of my dad above is from the World War II years when he served in the Army Corps of Engineers. He was likely somewhere between 19 and 23 when the portrait was done.  He served most of the war in France having crossed the English Channel the day after D-Day.  His last post was as Fire Marshall of Marseilles before mustering out and returning to Syracuse University where he met my mother.

It's been nearly six years but I still miss him.  I miss our talks and his pragmatic way of looking at things.  I still remember when he first met my former partner and summed the situation this way:  "I've gained another son."  They went on to bond well together.  One of the last times I saw him as we were getting ready to head back to Norfolk he said "you will always be my little boy."  Yes, I'm crying as I type this post.  I hope he knows what a wonderful gift he gave me when he accepted me just as I was.  I miss him everyday.

Thoughts on Fathers and Sons

I'm not sure why, but I had dreams about my father throughout the night last night. Perhaps it is because the second anniversary of his death is approaching. Perhaps it is because I had been talking with my son about the logistics of what we were going to do for his birthday. Sadly, my dad died on my son's birthday, thus always prompting bitter sweet thoughts as that date approaches. I had seen my father less than two weeks before he died and he had actually seemed to have been rallying again in his struggle against cancer. When I got the call that final morning that he was failing and that I needed to come immediately, it was too late for me to make it from Norfolk to Charlottesville before he died. It turned out he had died less than an hour before I arrived and I was not able to say one last goodbye, not that he would have necessarily known I was there.

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As long time readers know, my relationship with my dad was not always the best. He was a difficult man in many ways although in retrospect he always loved me and tried to do what was best for me. He definitely taught me what it was to be honest, stand by one's principles and not join in with people who were like lemmings scurrying after what was most popular or expedient. That we were not closer than we were was partly his fault, but also mine because of the glass wall I kept erected between me and others during my closet years. That glass wall also stood between me and my own son for many years. The glass wall was there to protect "my secret" and to protect me from the rejection I feared would occur if my dad, my son, and everyone else discovered I was actually gay. It impeded so many relationships. As it turned out, neither my dad nor my son rejected me, and with my dad I found the closure that had eluded us for nearly 50 years. I am still working on being the father my son deserves, but at least openness and honesty have been achieved. So many lost years - all because of homophobia and fear and the damage they do to those in the closet and to a indirect extent those who love them.

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I admit that I rage at times on this blog against the Christianists and others who seek to denigrate gays and keep anti-gay bigotry alive. I do so because I do not want anyone to have to experience the pain and unhappiness I endured. These haters can no longer touch me (because I won't let them), but they seek to harm others still on a daily basis through the lies and false religion they disseminate. I have little sympathy for those who seek to oppress us because in my opinion their anti-gay agenda is really selfish and all about themselves. How so? They seek to protect their fragile "faith" that cannot endure the fact that just maybe God made some of us gay by design and that just perhaps the Bible is not 100% accurate. If forced to admit these truth, then their whole sham world falls apart. Worse yet, for some it's all about making money by preying on gays and their families. Still others worry about the "embarrassment" of having a gay child or relative. What would their friends and neighbors think? They think first of themselves and later, if at all, about their child/relative. To me its an ultimate form of selfishness.

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Thankfully, my dad - and more or less all my extended family for that matter - passed the test and accepted and embraced me for who I am. That is the best gift that anyone can give to someone gay. Not money and things, but love and total acceptance. I thank my dad for having given me that gift.