It’s so interesting the things we stumble on, isn’t it? Reading your story, although the characters were very different than my reality, the events were remarkably similar.
My parents divorced when I was nine. It was tougher than usual, I think, as even during the breakup they got along strangely enough and appeared to me like they still genuinely loved each other. “Grown apart” was the official explanation, but there was something else at play, I was sure. That turned out to be right I discovered at thirteen when my father sat me down in his living room and explained that Evan, his roommate since leaving Mom was more than a roommate. I admit I had a hard time with it for a while, not because he was gay, but because I felt hurt he lied to me about something so central.
I spent summers and holidays with them in Vancouver, and over time grew to accept their relationship, coming to view Evan as my “other Dad”. The fact that Mom was supportive of them helped tremendously. When my father told us in 1991 that he was HIV + and by that time had been diagnosed with AIDS, it was soul crushing. Though Mom, myself, Evan and a circle of good friends (alto included) rallied around him and the next three years were some of the best we had together. I am still so proud that I had a family, both blood and chosen, who were up for that challenge.
In April of 1996 I was on a train coming home from Vancouver after visiting Dad and Evan. I remember this like it was yesterday; dusk had fallen on the plains of Manitoba and I was well into my second glass of wine, staring out the window into a magnificent purple and orange sky when the train attendant quietly approached. Would I please follow him, there was a message waiting. I knew when I left Dad just two days before it was the last time I’d see him, but I had no idea it would be that soon.
Your story brought it all back in vivid color. Enough time has passed that sitting with the memories was a good, comforting, and no doubt necessary thing, and for a while I felt closer to my father than I had in a long time. It had been too long. Thank you for giving me that through your story Gloria DiFulvio.
Oh, and yes, dinner? Consider it a date. He will be more than happy to spring for both of us. I’ve already told him he will. Perhaps we can get dessert. :)
