Tag Archives: parents

A Discussion

(My brain was being fried last week by the heat that’s why this last bit of Friday fiction didn’t make it into Pride month this is based off of this entirely unhinged and entitled story from reddit: https://www.reddit.com/r/redditonwiki/comments/1smvqap/not_oop_aitj_for_wanting_my_beliefs_respected_in/)

Calvin Poulton had worked hard his entire life. He had put the money away and now he was living off the benefits of it. He took in his backyard. The day was dawning with a nice chill. He heard his daughter moving around upstairs. His son was still in bed. He would be for some time. Let them sleep, they had just finished their school year. They deserved to relax for a little bit.

He heard the dull light sound of a car door slamming in his front yard. He wandered to the big picture window. His son was saying something to his wife. She said something back. They looked at the window and he wondered if they could see him. He took a deep drink of his coffee.

“Ah, hell,” he said to no one.

He walked back into the kitchen and started pouring the last of the coffee into his cup. He put the pot back on the machine. He heard his door open. They didn’t even bother to knock. He was looking out of his window when he heard them come into the kitchen.

“Hi, dad,” Brian said.

“Hi, son, what do I owe for this visit?” Calvin said taking another sip.

“We wanted to talk to you about the vacation coming up.”

“Oh.”

He took another long sip. He really just wanted a day to himself and his daughter. Why did they have to come here and ruin everything? No, they wouldn’t ruin his day. He wouldn’t let them.

“What about the vacation?” he asked.

“Well, as you know we have disagreed with Leon’s choice of lifestyle,” Krysten said haughtily for Calvin believed that was the only way she knew how to speak.

“Whose Leon?” Calvin asked putting his coffee cup in the sink.

“I’m not calling him that,” Brian said. “That’s mom’s name.”

“Then if you’re going to disrespect your sister you can get out of my house.”

“She’s not my-“

His wife put her hand on his arm and he quieted.

“The thing is that, that kind of lifestyle is against our beliefs. It’s a sin,” Krysten said.

“Really? Which verse defines it as so?” Calvin said leaning back against his counter.

“Deuteronomy 22:15 forbids that people shouldn’t wear clothing of the opposite sex.”

Calvin cocked his head to the right.

“You’re wearing jeans. Those aren’t women’s clothing are they?” Calvin said. “Also, denim and cotton are two different fabrics. How do you square that up with Leviticus?”

She looked at him and opened her mouth but didn’t say anything.

“Don’t try and come at me with Bible verses, I’ve lead Bible study at my church for the last two decades. The only difference is that I don’t use my religion as a cudgel on other people,” Calvin said.

“Dad, there’s no reason to get so hostile,” Brian said.

“You’re the ones that came here, unannounced on a Saturday morning to dead name my kid. My patience is at its limit,” Calvin said.

“You never cared about any of this before. You’ve changed.”

“Yes, I’ve changed and I’ve grown! That’s the point of all of this! You can’t just stay encased in amber for the rest of your life. Following some dusty old book and hoping that you can force the world into it.”

His son and daughter-in-law took a step back. If he had been worried about waking up the house before, he definitely had done it now.

“Dad, you want what’s best for your children and so do we,” Krysten said.

“How does my child being trans affect your children?” Calvin asked.

“They shouldn’t need to know about sex at their age and how do we talk to them about this?”

“Lorelei was a girl that needed some help to become who she is. Boom. Done. Sex doesn’t have to enter into it.”

“It’s not that simple.”

“It truly is.”

“We were thinking that for the vacation that Lorelei could stay in a different state room. We don’t mind if she’s on the same cruise as the rest of us. She can just stay in a different stateroom. Or I was thinking that you could pay for a separate cruise for us.”

Calvin stared at her for a long time. He then let out a wheezing laugh. He laughed for a long time. Brian and Krysten stood staring at him. Finally, he slapped his knee and looked at them.

“I think the simplest solution is that you don’t go at all,” Calvin said.

“You’ll really deprive your grandchildren of this memory?” Brian asked.

“I’m not the one doing it. You are. With your intolerance and self righteousness. You could have kept your bigoted opinions to yourself but instead you chose to share them with the world. Here’s a fun idea. Grow up and stop waiting for handouts. 1 Timothy 5:8 ‘but if anyone does not provide for his relatives, and especially for members of his household, he has denied his faith and is worse than a nonbeliever’. You want to go on a cruise. You pay for it. You want them to have those memories, you give it to them. And get the hell out of my house. I’ll call you when I feel like it. Right now, I’m so disgusted with the man that you’ve become.”

The two stood staring at him and then turned around and left. He locked the door behind them. When he saw them pull out and drive down the street, he went upstairs and knocked on his daughter’s door.

“Come in,” she said.

He entered the room and saw his daughter lying on her bed. She was doing something on her laptop.

“Hey kiddo,” he said.

“Hi, dad,” Lorelei said.

“Did you hear all of that?”

“No, I didn’t hear anything. I was listening to music.”

“Lorelei.”

“Yeah, I heard all of it. I was going to come downstairs when you started talking.”

“That wasn’t your fault. I want you to know that.”

“Hm. It would be a lot simpler if you didn’t have to deal with all of this.”

“Eh, my life would also be a lot worse if you weren’t in it so that argument is null and void.”

“Thanks, dad.”

“Do you want to come down for some breakfast?”

“Sure.”

She came downstairs with him and they talked while he worked. His wife came into the room and smiled as she watcheed her husband and daughter interact. She had known from the jump what kind of man he was. A man of faith and kindness. Lorelei had told her first, obvious being her birth mother. She had offered to tell Calvin on Lorelei’s behalf but Lorelei had wanted to do it herself.

It was a morning not that different from this one. She had come into the room and sat down. She had taken several breaths to steady herself.

“Morning, champ,” her father had said.

“Good morning,” Lorelei had replied.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.”

“You look about ready to vomit.”

“I need to talk to you about something.”

“Uh oh. Something happen my handsome little man?”

“Yeah, that’s… that’s kind of the thing.”

“What?”

“I don’t like being called a man.”

Calvin had been unscrewing the top of the orange juice to pour his child a glass. He stopped and looked at Lorelei.

“It makes me upset,” Lorelei continued.

“Why?” Calvin asked. “I’m not trying to talk you out of this, I just want to understand.”

“I’m trans.”

“Okay, okay.”

He poured her a glass of orange juice and handed it to her. She looked at it, confused that that was his reaction. He walked around the kitchen island and kissed her on the top of her head. He hugged her to him and she hugged him back. The tears were starting in her eyes.

“You’re not my handsome son, you’re my beautiful daughter,” he said. “We’ll talk about the steps we’re going to take for your safety but know this, the rest of the world might stand against you but I’m with you. I love you.”

She wiped at her eyes as he let her go. She drank her orange juice.

“Have you thought of a new name? Is that how it works? I’m completely lost. We’ll have many discussions about this,” Calvin said.

“I was thinking that I would go by the name Lorelei,” she said.

Calvin sat up.

“Is it after my late wife?” he asked.

“Yeah,” she said. “You’ve always spoken so highly of her and I always thought it was a beautiful name.”

“You know that’s the first thing I said when I met her.”

From that day until his last day Calvin stood by his daughter. The way a father did without question or hesitation.

Share a Drink Like Old Friends

Heather didn’t need to look through the menu. She had come here enough to know what she wanted. The bartender knew her, giving her a nod as she sat down in a booth. The waitress brought her drink over and Heather started waiting. The bar was mostly empty. It was early and would probably get rowdy later. She was a parent though so she liked to get things done and get home to her daughter as soon as possible.

“I knew that you’d be early,” a voice said she was running her finger along the ring of her cosmopolitan.

She looked up and saw her ex-husband standing in front of her. She was reminded as she always was, how handsome he was and had been. He was wearing a flannel shirt with the sleeves rolled up, a pair of nice jeans. His hair was neat and beard trim. He wasn’t sure to sit down yet or not. She slid out of the booth and hugged him. He noted that she had lost weight. Maybe that was him, the dead weight, the albatross around her neck.

The hug lasted a bit longer than friends. She squeezed him tight and then let him go. She sat down and he did as well. The waitress came in and he ordered a beer. She was looking at him from across the table. Her wide, protuberant eyes were drilling into him. Her hair was shorter than when they were together, coming to about her chin. She looked good.

“Thank you for offering to meet,” he said to her. “And thank you for what you said to Krissy.”

“She didn’t mean any of that, John,” Heather replied. “She just… she’s having a hard time understanding this.”

“I know.”

He hung his head. He tapped his finger on the table.

“How are you doing with this?” John asked.

“I mean, I was hurt when it happened but… that was a year ago at this point. I think I’m coming to terms with it,” Heather answered. “When you came out to me, I said some things that I shouldn’t have. I was not kind to what you were going through.”

“You don’t have to apologize for that,” John said. “I know it must have been hard to hear. I’m sorry for wasting your time.”

“Don’t,” she snapped at him. “Don’t you fucking dare dismiss what we had that way.”

He looked at her. The slap of her words felt almost physical.

“I don’t feel it was a waste. We had ten really good years and we got Krissy out of it. I love you, John. I still do. I know that we can’t be together but that fact isn’t going to change,” Heather continued.

“I love you too,” John said struggling to keep his voice even.

“That’s why I wanted to reach out to you. Because when I talked to her about yelling at you, saying that she hated you, it was like confronting a tiny version of the feelings that I had for you. I told her that it wasn’t your fault, that this is just what happens sometimes, people fall out of love with one another and they figure out who they are.”

Heather took a sip of her drink.

“Because even if we still have things to work out between us, I don’t want you to be sad, I don’t want you to lose your daughter who despite what she was saying, loves you more than anything in this world,” Heather said and took a deep breath. “I want us to be a family and that’s going to look a little different. You, Krissy, me and whatever handsome man you happen to be dating.”

John smiled and took a swig of his beer.

“I think I’m going to stick with Barry for a while,” John said. “I really care for him.”

“He seems like a great guy,” Heather said with a smile. “I think that he’s going to be really good to have in Krissy’s life. She told me about him helping her with her pitching.”

“I’m glad we have at least one jock to help her learn.”

“Not our thing.”

“Never was.”

They shared a laugh.

“How’re you doing?” John asked her.

“I got back on the dating apps and I have a bevy of twenty-year old men looking to blow my back out,” Heather said. “I’m going to be just fine. I just don’t care, right now. It’s fun once in a while but I’m not really looking to date seriously.”

“That’s fine. If you ever want to drop Krissy off while you go on a date, feel free. We’re always happy to see her.”

“Thanks. The thing is, you know what? I really just miss my best friend.”

Her eyes were crinkling with tears. John took a wet breath.

“Yeah, I do too,” he said.

“Do you think we can get back to that?” Heather asked him.

“I would love to.”

“Any gossip from your office?”

He let out a laugh.

“If we’re going to get into that,” he said. “We need some food and more drinks. On me, of course.”

They beckoned the waitress over and the two of them ordered. They spent the next few hours laughing and enjoying themselves. They went back to their homes feeling better about the world, about themselves and each other.

Over the weekend

Last weekend marked five years that my father passed away. It didn’t really hit me until I put it into the frame point that it’s been half a decade. We’re coming around to the point that next year, the anniversary will fall on the same day of the week as it was when he first passed. I will as I always have try and keep myself busy that day.

I spoke about him last night while recording a podcast with my friend, Donnie. About how he was a simple man, not a stupid one. How he didn’t need complicated reasons about race theory or LGTBQIA+ because in his mind, he boiled down everything to “There are good people and bad people and it doesn’t matter what if they’re gay, white or black”. He judged people as they came to him.

One of the stories that remains in my mind is that my dad did taxes from January to April. There was an older woman who was on a fixed income and three years of her tax return had been messed up. My father was so angry about the work the guy had done before him. He never took that out on me though, I remember coming downstairs to give him his coffee and he was cursing at the computer. I handed him the coffee, he immediately calmed, said thank you and as I walked away went back to angrily talking about this “Fucking idiot accountant”. My father charged about a hundred dollars an hour for his time but he put the work in. He put in enough effort that he could get people back thousands of dollars and do it in a legal way. I was eating dinner alone when the woman came to pick up her tax returns. I remember sitting at the table and thinking that all the work, about three hours for return, would be a nice paycheck for him. She was over the moon. He had gotten her back so much money. Then I heard him say:

“Let’s just call it fifty dollars and be done with it.”

The woman paid him his money and left. He was clearing up his papers when I went into the room. I asked him why he had only charged her fifty dollars. That should have been a nine hundred dollar paycheck. My father took off his glasses, something that always signaled that he was about to talk to me seriously, and told me:

“Money isn’t the most important thing. She’s a woman alone, Rollo. You have to help where you can.”

That’s been with me since that day and probably will until I can no longer draw a breath. Another favorite story of his is that my dad told me that he didn’t want me to steal because he would be embarrassed if he had to come to the police station because I got caught stealing a candy bar. He didn’t tell me not to steal because it’s wrong, just to do it in a smart way. He told me that if you can steal enough to retire and never work again and do it in a way that you didn’t have to harm anyone, go for it. Anything else was pointless. That was way more effective and I never thought about stealing little things because what would be the point? I can’t retire on what’s in a cash register. I can’t retire on a Butterfingers. My dad said be Danny Ocean or don’t bother.

In conclusion, I want to talk about one of the greatest gifts that my mother gave me. One year, she took a video on her phone of my dad wishing me a happy birthday and that he loved me. Whenever I’m down, I watch that video and get to hear my father’s voice. I get to hear him tell me he loves me.

This is a hard thing I have to tell people and I get asked about the death of my father alot. I’m older and people are seeing their parents get old and becoming infirm. They need someone with experience to get through it. So, they talk to me.

What I’m trying to tell you is if you’re a parent, you should leave behind something that your children can hear you tell them that you love them. That they can go forward without doubting that. And no matter where you are in your life if you have loved ones, tell them that you love them as a goodbye. You want to make sure that that’s the last thing they hear from you in case something happens.

Be well my friends. I love you.

A Role I Didn’t Ask For

My father passed away in 2020. It wasn’t from Covid but something else that I don’t really want to talk about right now. It was a strange, sad time in my life. But that’s not what this post is really about right now.

I have a new role in my friend group. For the most part, all of my friends still have both of their parents. We’re all in our late thirties and their parents are getting older. My sorrow, my loss makes them think about things though. Considering the future. Having to live through a fear that they don’t want to name.

So, they ask me questions. They ask me how did I know when certain things happened to my dad. How did I handle this or that. How am I feeling? How did you prepare?

They’re kindhearted people so they want to make sure that they can take care of the people that took care of them. Those are legitimate concerns. I told them about the things we did to prepare. To make sure that we would be ready.

But that’s not what they’re really asking. They’re really asking, “am I going to be okay when they’re gone?”. And I have to say yes. It’s going to be different. It’s going to be hard but you’re going to get through it.

You’re going to think about him daily. I do. You’re going to think about how I would love to talk to him about this. I would love to get his input on this or that. You’re going to get a job and wonder if he would be proud of you. You’re going to miss him at big events.

There’s unfortunately, no magic path that I can give you. There’s nothing that I can say to make the pain any less. The only path is through. But what has always worked for me was trying to live up to the standard that my father showed me.

I think the most telling moment in my mind for my father was this. He was an accountant and charged 100 dollars an hour. Let me put it simply, he deserved every dollar he got from his clients. He was exemplar. He had this older woman, living on a fixed income. She had been screwed over by a lazy accountant for the last three years. Each return took him about three hours to fix. He was so angry at the shitty work the guy before him had done.

Finally came the day when he called her over. He had gotten her back somewhere in the thousands in her refund. I thought that nine hours of work would at least give him a good paycheck to make up for the headache that he had been put through while working on them. I was eating dinner while they were talking at the dining room table. He was explaining how much money she was getting back and she was so excited. I waited for the hammer to fall.

He charged her fifty bucks.

When she was gone, I walked into the dining room to talk to him. I asked him why he only charged her fifty bucks. He took off his glasses, which was always a signal that he wanted to talk to me seriously and said:

“Rollo, she’s a woman alone, living off the state. Some things are more important than money.”

That alone has made me try and be fair and kind in all my dealings. He was a good man.

The one thing that I know that I don’t have to worry about and I prepared for this, was to make sure that the last thing I said to my father was “I love you”. I always knew that my parents were older and that made me want to make sure I spent more time with them. Because I knew that this day was going to come and a far harder day is coming down the line. When I will fully be an orphan. I hate thinking about that day. But it makes me be, hopefully, a better son. To make sure my mom knows I care about her.

Fortunately, my mom had my dad make videos for my sister and I of him wishing us a happy birthday. I have a video of my father telling me happy birthday and that he loves me. I’m so lucky for that. I know that it’s something that other people don’t have. To be able to hear their father’s voice.

And if you’re a parent reading this, then that’s my advice for you. To make sure that there are physical things that your children can have and hold or hear of your love. Make them videos, audio recordings or whatever so that they can hear your voice in times of trouble. That they’ll never forget what it sounds like when you say you love them.