I looked in on the site this afternoon and was saddened to see yet another familiar name in the In Memoriam Section. I keep hoping it’s a software glitch or a misprint. I talked with Mrs. D about the sadness over this heartbreaking loss of someone I never quite felt brave enough to know – someone who fought and fought the good fight. But someone who was kind enough to welcome me. And I recalled this….

http://bigclosetr.us/topshelf/fiction/11271/bedtime-story

One of the first stories I ever read here. Written by one of the first of many friends to me here as well. I was too scared to comment.

One day, when helping take the laundry down, she noticed that her mommy had left some of her things around, so she thought... "Maybe, if I dress up pretty, mommy will understand better."

So, the little girl, pulled a nice slip out and pulled it over her little head.

The little girl was going to go find her mommy, when she saw a pair of her mommy's heels, and thought to herself. "Those look so fun." She put her little feet in the shoes, and clopped off to find her mommy.

Looking down, I noticed that Karen had fallen asleep. Maybe one day, she'll ask me to tell her more about this little girl. I hope she's older though.

---

When I first started ‘talking’ with folks here, I was struggling with who and what I was. And how It all fit together. My big sis Nee Nee simply said, ‘drea, you’re transgender. In talking with Annette in one of the first times, she ‘spoke’ with encouragement, echoing what Nee Nee had said along with the personal reminder that families sometimes surprise. That it is entirely possible that sons and daughters and even wives might actually come to accept us?

I gathered what little hope I could from her example; determined that someday I would speak in more openness with my wife and begin to speak to my son about Andrea. On the eve of a new year, Mrs. D and I talked today about Jackie Evancho’s sister Juliet, who came out to her own family as transgender last spring. Mrs. D posted Juliet’s story on her own FaceBook page. So much hope even as I slowly emerge if still daunted.

I was encouraged by a friend not within our community to share sometime soon a story I wrote to my son – Wendy showed a sense of urgency while rightly identifying my innate belief that I don’t deserve to be happy. That I bear things in the ‘Silken Silence’ of which my own story speaks.

“Go ahead….tell him…tell them.”

So now, on December 31, 2015, I have renewed hope which was birthed in no small part by the care of Nee Nee and Annette, among others of course. I’ve made promises to someday go out west to see Nee Nee and to visit Ronnie in Reno. And I missed the opportunity forever with Beth. I long to drive to Utah and Virginia and fly to Ireland and Oz and Ohio and Western Canada.

But I missed the chance to hop on a local bus to motor just up the state highway to see someone who never missed an opportunity to speak hope into my life. Is it possible to be heartbroken over someone you’ve never met? What I do have forever is that nudge her story provides in the excerpt above, albeit with a soon to be 27 year old son maybe this by this time next year learning about the little girl in his father’s past

Thanks Annette.... To friends!