Mike here (I just love when Tony starts his blogs that way, I just picture him talking in his "man" voice).
We had dinner with my mom and dad last night. It is funny how much I enjoy the time we spend with them, now that I am not 16. This amazing awareness hit me last night though about my parents, especially my mom. After dinner we watched a documentary about gay fathers. There was this scene where one of the dads’ mom is telling the camera about how when he came out she had to let go of some of her own ideas and longings regarding how she thought her son’s life would turn out. She mentioned that she had to mourn the idea of seeing her son as a parent. She is holding her new grandson as she is relaying this story. I looked over at my mom, who had her head on my dad’s chest and she was weeping into his shirt. I realized in that moment how huge this is for her. That when I came out she had to mourn the loss, or at least the possible loss, of dreams that she had for me since I was born. Never one time when I was struggling through that process did I even think about what it must have been like for her. And then a little later, as I began my descent into the hell of drug addiction she must have thought she had buried those longings and dreams of seeing me as a father, of watching me parent my own children, of fighting with me about “Back in my day we….”. I realized that as much as this baby means to me and Tony, he or she means close to as much to my parents. Megan’s gift has a greater impact than I think she even can know. And I just don’t have the ability to explain to her or thank her for this… thank that seems like such an inadequate word.
I think that I am starting to gain a better understanding of the impossible love that parents have for their children, and that is allowing me to see my mom and dad differently. I have also been thinking about what this child will have to face. In the movie it was also stated that “every kid has something”. I just hope that Tony and I are able to give this kid the love and support they will need to get through it (whatever “it” is); like my mom did for me when I was growing up the bastard child of a single mom deep in Butthole Louisiana. Actually I know Tony will. He has this never ending reserve of strength and love. You know, I think this kid will be alright.
Me and my mommy, like
thirty twenty five years ago.