What’s The Right Way To Talk About This?

There’s no right way, really. I want to be honest, but I’m scared. If I share my true, deep in my bones feelings about how I felt about Dad being gay, I’m bound to hurt someone. But I must do it for myself, and for my children. And because I’m just sure it will help many. Help society as a whole.

Dad’s been gone now for seven months. I’ve mourned his death, the way he suddenly left us. How he fought the transition, fought to be a stronger man because he thought he needed to be. As I develop, ‘Honor Thy Gay Father’ I have a pit in my stomach fearing I will hurt him in some way. Even though I have faith he has made it to heaven, has been welcomed with open arms and is happy. I fear there is still a small inkling he will be hurt by my words. Additionally I worry I will hurt his two living sisters, my loving aunts. That in their grief only want to see their brother in the most beautiful light, will think I’m dishonoring my dad. I worry they will be offended by my sharing of secrets, what I have felt, seen and experienced. I hope they understand this is a way for me to heal, for others to heal through shared experience.

I want to get it right. I want to share past memories and current feeling truthfully. I want an enormous amount of traffic to pour through my blog site. As viewers explore I hope they realize in my revealing of, sometimes dark feelings, I mean no harm. Instead I’m looking for change to take place, replacing ugly thoughts with hope and love. I pray people will also soak up the good and funny stories along with painful and tragic. That sooner than later something incredible will come, larger than life exposure, maybe a movie will be made and someone gorgeous, tight-skinned, thick haired, and amazing will play my dad – he would be thrilled. Making light of the honest discussions we would have in the last few years he would always say, “Oh Dolly, just make me look good!”

I want my brother and sister to be okay with being included in my stories. Okay that they need to be a part of my larger history but that I won’t expose them nor put words in their mouths. Finally, I hope my mother will find understanding of my efforts. She did everything in her power to provide for us, when for so long Dad was distant and away, sorting his truths. Please let her know this may stir old wounds and at times it may create anguish but that it will ultimately heal us. She has spent a lifetime wishing Dad had been there in a more prevalent way for her children, fulfilling a vision of a father she had hoped for us. For her, I wish peace. For her to know I turned out exactly as I should.

There is no perfect way to say all I need to, but I pledge to honor each person that lands into the pieces of this puzzle. My family wasn’t taught how to deal with what was sent our way, not many were. I’m not here to condemn only share and hopefully educate. I was placed in this very position to share my stories. I know it in my heart and soul.