New Year’s Eve

Mark looked at the bottles of pills on his kitchen table, sitting next to a photo of his wife and daughter from a long-ago vacation at a lakeside cabin. Further to his right was a new compass and the note from Theresa that came with it on Christmas, just a few days ago.

There were some powerful painkillers, along with some sleeping pills, and a large, just opened, bottle of Jack Daniels.

He poured himself a drink.

Dumping the pills out onto the table, he started pushing them around.

He picked up the photo and stared at Theresa. “Why did you have to go?” He took a long drink and poured himself another glass.

“God damn cancer,” he shouted as he downed the next glass.

Eyeing the pills, he poured another drink.

He read the note out loud “My dear, dear Mark. I know if you are reading this, then I have gone. I know you, my dear, and you are going to have a rough road ahead. This compass will help to remind you to follow your road. It is time. Know that I will always be with you in your heart. Love you dearest. Theresa”

He picked up the compass and told it, “Point me back to her! I don’t want any other road!” He stared at it as the arrow pointed towards the photo. Looking at the image, he saw his daughter Lucy in the photo. She was probably thirteen or fourteen in this picture. Today she was a full-grown woman, with a husband and two children.

Lucy was also grieving for her mother.

He shook off that thought and grabbed a handful of pills.

The photo of Lucy stared back at him, and he thought to himself, who would find him? Lucy of course, who else? What would she think of him for choosing to leave them all?

“But I’m hurting so much.”

He downed another glass. And looked again at the compass.

A woman’s voice in his head, said, “Mark… no! You have spent a lifetime putting your family first, is this how you’re going to end your life? Selfishly? Will that honor Theresa? Can you really do that to Lucy, and your family?”

“But it hurts!”

“Yes, it hurts. It will for quite a while. But that doesn’t mean that there is nothing to live for. You know there is. Not only for Lucy and the kids, but for you. It’s time for you to follow your own road. Find your joy!”

Joy?! How? Where?

“Yes, joy. You just need to resolve to go find it. New Year’s Eve is the night for new resolutions.”

Somewhere deep inside, Mark grabbed for life, and he swore his New Year’s Resolution, “I will find my joy.”

He put down his glass and fell asleep, with tears dripping on the table, thinking, “Joy.”

…

Mark woke up, having slept the night through with his head on the table. He had cramps in his legs and his headache reminded him that he had just a bit too much Jack Daniels the night before.

He saw the pile of pills, some of them still held in his clenched hand, and blanched. Was I really going to take those pills?

He separated the pills and put them into their containers, and he placed the bottles in a bag to take to the local prescription pill drop off.

Twisting the cap back on to the Jack Daniels bottle, he put it away, way in the back of his liquor cabinet.

The photo and his new compass he placed on the mantle in the living room as a constant reminder.

Remembering his New Year’s resolution, and his promise to “The Voice” that he would find his joy; he took out his phone and called a friend that had recommended a therapist to help him to handle his grief. She agreed to reach out to her contact to see if she could use a bit of influence to get him an appointment sooner rather than later.

…

When Mark entered Dr. Schaefer’s office, she directed him to sit in the cushioned chair, opposite the one she sat in. He looked around, and saw that it was a bright room, with bookshelves that contained a mix of books, plants, and some small statues or figurines. There were large windows on two of the walls, which helped bring in plenty of sunlight. It was a comfortable room.

They exchanged pleasantries, and Dr. Schaefer expressed her condolences for Mark’s loss.

Soon, they were delving into what brought Mark into her office.

“These past few months with her gone have been so very hard. Especially with the holidays. She loved them all. Going to my daughter’s house to celebrate without her has been … difficult. Every little thing reminds me that she is gone, and how much I miss her. Then there are the big things, like Lucy setting a place in her honor at the dinner table. At Christmas, there were presents she had prepared before she got too sick, knowing she would not be there to give them herself.”

Mark took a deep breath, “New Year’s Eve, I got really depressed. I was home alone, and I’m afraid I got more than a little drunk. I rarely drink at all, but that night I did. I gathered a bunch of her meds, painkillers, and some sedatives. I was seriously thinking about taking them.”

“What made you stop?”

“I was staring at a picture of Theresa, my daughter Lucy, and I from when she was young. I then focused on Lucy and got to thinking about her finding me. I also saw the compass that Theresa had given me for Christmas, along with a note telling me that it would guide me to my own road.”

He took another pause, and a deep breath and added, “Then I heard a woman’s voice in my head, telling me off for being selfish. She told me I had things to live for, Lucy and my grandkids. That I also had enough reason of my own to live, and that it was time to find my own road, to find my joy.

“Theresa’s voice?”

“No.”

“Lucy’s voice? Whose voice was it that you were hearing?”

“No, not Lucy, not Theresa… It was my own voice.”

…

The next day, Mark woke up thinking about the rest of the session. He had told Dr. Schaefer that he had always had a strong feminine side to him. That he had occasionally cross-dressed over the years when he just had to have some time to express himself.

Theresa knew about it, and she was mostly okay with it, if it was occasional. They had both decided that Lucy did not need to know about it.

He told her about the day that Lucy helped him with clearing out Theresa’s things to send off to charity. She had come across some things that were clearly too large for Theresa to have ever worn. He had told her that Theresa had found them for a friend and was holding them until she saw her again.

In fact, they were his.

The session had ended shortly after that, and they arranged to continue his sessions.

He had an awful lot to think about.

…

Over the next few sessions, they explored Mark’s feelings about this part of his personality. They focused on the way that his internal voice had told him that he had always put his family first, and it was time for him to put himself first and find his joy.

They did not forget that Mark had come to see her because of his unresolved grief over the loss of his wife Theresa. Some visits focused exclusively on this, and she strongly recommended he attend a group dedicated to those that had lost a spouse, which he did.

She encouraged Mark to allow himself the freedom to explore his gender identity. He found it awkward because he had very little experience. He had just a few things and had rarely used them. Theresa had done her best to understand, and she tried to help him, but he had always felt ashamed, hated the way he looked, and did not want her to see him.

He cringed when he saw himself in the mirror. He wasn’t as hairy as he used to be, but he still had quite a bit on his arms and his chest, even if it was predominantly grey now. He knew he could shave but was afraid that Lucy would notice. He was not ready to have that discussion with her.

He wasn’t sure he was ready to have that discussion with himself!

Yet, he found himself spending more of his time at home, en femme. He told Dr. Schaefer that even though he was terrified that Lucy would stop by unexpectedly at some point, he just found he was much more comfortable, and he kind of dreaded getting changed when he had to go out or when he was expecting company.

She encouraged him to come to his next visit dressed. She told him he could use her office bathroom to change, before and after, if he was not ready to drive there. On his next visit he did. They did not focus on how he was dressed, Dr. Schaefer just continued to treat him as she always did, other than complimenting him on his outfit when he came in.

At one of their sessions, after expressing his fear of Lucy walking in on him, Dr. Schaefer said, “Perhaps, it is time for you to tell her what you are going through.”

He admitted that he had been thinking about it and said that she was always asking about his sessions with Dr. Schaefer. He had told her about the work they had been doing to help him handle his grief, but he had not shared any of this part of his life with her.

Mark told her, “I’m not sure what I would tell her. What am I? Where do I fit? Who am I? I am her father, I was Theresa’s husband, my parent’s son and so on. I have fifty odd years of that life, can I really let that slip away? I am proud of my past life.”

She told him “There is nothing wrong with that, but that does not mean that you can’t explore what your new life should be. Maybe this is just a small part of who you are, and that is enough. But living in fear of your daughter finding out is not healthy. Maybe it’s more than that. That’s what you are trying to figure out right now.”

He agreed to think about it.
…

A few weeks later, he had a close call. He had spent most of the morning running errands. Arriving home, he was just heading up the stairs to his bedroom to change, when Lucy came in the front door, and called out, “Hey Dad, you home?”

Startled, he almost stumbled down the stairs. Realizing how close he had been to being caught, he was shaken. Ten or fifteen minutes later, and the conversation they would have had would have been very different.

She saw him jump, and said, “Oh, Dad, I didn’t mean to startle you!”

He told her he had just gotten home and was not expecting to see her. Then he asked her if everything was okay.

“Yeah, everything is fine, Mike and I have been invited to a charity dance this weekend. I was wondering if you would let me borrow Mom’s garnet necklace and earring set.”

Mark told her of course that was okay, and that she should keep them. He was pretty sure her mom had intended for that set to go to her, since garnets were both of their birthstones. He just had not gone through all her jewelry to see what was supposed to go where.

After speaking with Dr. Schaefer, he asked Lucy to join him at their next session.

…

To say that the meeting with Lucy at Dr. Shaefer’s office did not go well would be a bit of an understatement.
Lucy was caught off guard and was immediately upset for her mother having had to deal with this in silence throughout their marriage. She was even more upset at the thought that her father might be trying to replace her mother.

Then she was mad at both her father and her mother for “lying” to her for her whole life.

Mark had assured her that he had no intention of trying to replace her mother in her life. That he had always been her father and had always done his best to be the best father he could be.

She demanded to know what Mark planned on doing, and why he had felt the need to finally share this part of himself with her?

He told her he was not sure where this was going to lead, but that it was something that he had to explore. That Theresa, in her last Christmas wish for him, had as much as told him to follow his road to where it led. That he was trying to honor that wish, both for her, but also for himself.

Dr. Schaefer asked Lucy to ask herself if it was simply because it was her father that she was upset, or if it was the idea of transgender people in general that she found objectionable. Lucy was not sure; she had never known a transgender person before. Her only exposure had been celebrities that had made the news. She was ambivalent about the lives of celebrities; they had nothing to do with her. She had said, “This is different. It has a direct effect on my relationship with my father, and with his relationship with my children. I can’t be ambivalent about that!”

At the end of the session, she agreed to give it some thought, and Mark had agreed to give her some space to do so.

…

It was New Year’s Eve, a year after Mark had initially made his resolution to find his joy.

Mark had the same bottle of Jack Daniels, the photograph of Theresa and Lucy at the lake, his compass, and the note.

He poured himself a glass.

He looked at the photograph, at Theresa, and at Lucy. “Have I lost her too? I have not heard from her in the past two months since we met with Dr. Schaefer.”

His thoughts floated back to last year, as he sank into the depression that was amplified by too much alcohol. The pain that had surfaced then threatened to rise again, amplified this time by the potential loss of his daughter and her family.

He picked up the glass and looked toward the compass.

The woman’s voice in his head came back, “No. You have made a lot of progress this year. You have to give Lucy a chance, you know she loves you. Don’t give up on her. Don’t give up on us!”

He took a deep breath, dumped the glass into the kitchen sink, and renewed his resolution to follow his road, to find his joy.

…

In January, he sent Lucy a card on her birthday. He was surprised when he got a call from her.

She thanked him for the card, and for the annual birthday check. He told her she was welcome, and then waited through the awkward pause, giving her a chance to make the next move.

Finally, she said, “Dad, I’m still not sure about all of this, but I think I need to see you. Can I come over tomorrow while the kids are in school? I need to meet you as this woman you may be becoming.”

They arranged for her to come for lunch the next day. Mark worked hard to do his best to look presentable. He hesitated, but decided if he was going to do this, he needed to do it right. In addition to a very close shave, he shaved his arms, his legs, and his chest. He had been working on makeup techniques. Dr. Schaefer had recommended a shop that was friendly to transgender people, and they had helped him learn what worked well for him, and he had been practicing.

He set up the fixings for sandwiches, with a couple of choices of salads, and set out a pitcher of iced tea.
Lucy arrived on time, and Mark welcomed her in. She hesitated, took a breath, and reached out to give him a hug.

They sat together at the table in the kitchen nook, and after making themselves plates, they talked about the kids, and everything but Mark’s transition. As lunch went on the tension that had started out in the room melted away. Mark was laughing with her over one of her tales of the latest antics of the kids.

Lucy then said, “Dad… I’m sorry, I’ve been distant. This has been quite a shock for me. I’m glad I came today. Yes, seeing you this way is a bit weird, but this has been good. You are still you. Just in a different package. And I can see that it has been good for you, you are not depressed the way you were for months after mom’s passing. I… I love you, and I really do want you to be happy, and here with us for a long time. I can’t promise that I will always be perfect, but I really do want to try to understand.”

Mark choked up, and said, “Thank you, Lucy. You and the kids mean so much to me. I admit I am happier than I have been in a long time. I still miss your mom dearly, and always will. I would give everything up to have her back here with me, but she basically wanted me to move on. I’m trying to honor that.”

Crying, they both hugged each other for a long time.

…

With Lucy’s support, Mark began to transition in earnest. Lucy had spoken to her husband and her kids. Being kids, they had no issues with grandpa’s changes, since their mom did not make a big deal of it. During their time apart, Lucy had researched everything she could, to try to understand. Some of it scared her to death, but when reading it in whole, she realized that the things she read that scared her were written by people that were clearly playing on her fears. The “evidence” they had was flimsy at best, while the major medical organizations all backed treating transgender people as they viewed themselves.

Shortly after her birthday lunch, Lucy said, “I can’t keep calling you dad when you are presenting this way, and the kids are finding calling you grandpa awkward, we need to find you a new name.”

In honor of his New Year’s resolution, they settled on Joyce, or Joy for short, and for the kids they settled on Nana.

Figuring out what Lucy should call him was a bit more of a challenge. Theresa was her mother, and she had always called her mom. They talked about Aunt Joyce, but Lucy was adamantly against that. “You are not my aunt you are my parent.”

After much back and forth, they settled on Mama.

…

After this, Lucy began coming around at least a couple of days a week for lunch. Some days they just stayed home. Eventually, they got the courage to venture out of the house together, maybe some window shopping, and occasionally even having lunch at a restaurant.

The first time they did that, Mark was extremely nervous, but as he gained more confidence, he had less trouble. He did not stop being aware of his surroundings, but it became less about being a transgender woman out and about, and more just being a couple of women out and about.

Around July, they were sitting in his kitchen and Lucy brought up something that had been on her mind, “You know Mama, you keep telling me that you don’t know where you fit in under the transgender umbrella. I won’t pretend to know better than you, but from my perspective, you seem much happier when you are able to be Joyce, than when, for whatever reason, you must be Mark. Whenever I have been with you and you were Mark, I can’t think of a time when you did not rush to become Joyce as soon as you could. I have never seen you rush to be Mark, when you were Joyce, in fact it seems to be something you dread.”

This thought stuck with him, and he discussed it at his next session with Dr. Schaefer. He said, “I really am struggling with letting go of being Mark. I was a father, a husband, a son, and I am proud of those parts of my life. How can I let that go? Yet, Lucy is right, when I’m Mark, I can’t wait until I’m Joyce, but I never think about how much I want to be Mark when I’m Joyce? I’ve been living almost full time as Joyce for months now, will I ever get tired of being Joyce?”

Dr. Schaefer told him that it was a good question, and one that he should think about further.

…

By September, he was thinking about this whenever he was alone. Yes, he was proud of those roles, he had always tried very hard all these years to be the person that his family needed him to be.

If he really was honest with himself though, he had memories of his time with his daughter, when he was being motherly - not her mother, that was always Theresa - but where his feminine side kicked in and took charge. He had also tried to be a good wife, again reacting in ways that Theresa recognized as being this part of him. She loved that he had this side to him; she felt it made him a better partner. Maybe his mom and dad had never realized it, but he had always been as much their daughter as he was their son.

He found it a bit unsettling, but he could not shake this thought.

…

He and Lucy were talking further about it, a few weeks later.

She told him, “Mama, I never saw it when I was a kid, but knowing what I do now, and thinking about my friend’s dads, I can absolutely see that you always were a bit different. I couldn’t have put a name to it then, but I loved it, and my friends were jealous, they all thought you were wonderful. Not that they did not love their dads, they did, but there was something they all liked about you.”

While having that discussion it finally hit him that, in fact, he had lived his life as Mark for many years, but that under it all, he had always been Joyce as well.

With that thought, SHE realized that Mark had been her protective shell. That he was no longer protecting her, but now he was stifling her ability to be truly happy.

…

It was New Year’s Eve. Two years from the fateful night when she had set out a bottle, and a bunch of pills, and contemplated ending her life.

Joyce sat at her kitchen table. Lucy and her husband sat across from her, the kids sleeping in one of the guest bedrooms. On the table in front of them was the remainder of the bottle of Jack Daniels, the family photo, the compass, and a laptop computer.

Joyce picked up the photo, “Theresa, I miss you so very much. Last year at this time, I wasn’t quite ready yet. I was missing you, and missing Lucy.” Lucy reached out and lightly touched her hand, “Now, with Lucy and Mike and the kids’ support, I’m finally ready.”

She picked up the bottle and poured a glass for each of them. “To my wonderful wife, Theresa, always!”

They clinked glasses and took a sip.

Joyce continued, “Thank you, Theresa, for providing the guidance to find the path to my road. For giving me the spark and your tacit permission to find happiness. To Mark, thank you for caring for me, for protecting me, for giving me the ability to be Lucy’s parent and Theresa’s spouse. It is time, I can let you go.”

Lucy then took up the next toast, “To my father, Mark, for putting his family first, for being there for me and mom, always. Now it is time to say goodbye to my father, and hello to my Mama Joy. I am so glad to have found you at last. Welcome home, Mama.”

They clinked their glasses again, drinking what remained, and Joyce hit send on her social media post announcing her transition to the rest of her family and friends.

Happy New Year!

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