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He Didn’t Want to Leave Them

There was a deafening silence before he played the answering machine. When Ron walked in and saw 16 messages on his machine, he knew in his gut that something terrible had happened while he was away. Time seemed to stand still for an eternity. He took a deep breath and played the first message. It was his sister Carrie, sobbing, barely able to get the words out; gut wrenching grief. Their brother had been found dead that morning. That part didn’t register at that moment, but it explained all the messages. He hated that fucking machine more than just about anything. He was out for less than two hours for fuck’s sake.

He took a deep breath, turned out all the lights and sat in the stillness for what felt like hours. He was aware he’d eventually have to fly home, but not at that moment; Georgia would have to wait. There were only two people who truly knew Ron and one of them was now gone. Not gone as in moved across the country or disappeared for a couple of days, gone as in dead, no longer breathing. Ron needed to process losing his brother and best friend. He slapped himself thinking he was asleep. Didn’t he dream his sister fell to her death a few months ago?

Suicide; haven’t we all considered it at one time or another? Doesn’t your rational mind usually take control? Who takes their own life? It’s selfish, it’s desperate, it shouldn’t happen. It didn’t happen.

Jay did it; Jay took his own life. That asshole left his family to clean up the mess. His daughters were too young to lose their father. Five year old innocents with nothing but crinkled photos and his stupid baseball hat. What was he thinking? Where are you Jay?

Jay loved baseball. It seemed at times that he loved that stupid game more than he loved anyone or anything else. Everyone joked and laughed about it, but maybe it wasn’t so funny. Maybe baseball gave him some peace. Ron hated when the game was on television at Thanksgiving. He mocked his brother; said stupid things like “you’re out” and “game over loser.” What an asshole Ron had been.

Ron picked up his phone to call his father, then he threw it down. Why did he have to make this call? Did Jay even think about their father? Did he even consider what it would do to him? To us? Could his father’s heart even take it? What about Jay’s ex-wife? She wouldn’t give a shit, but somebody to tell her so that she could tell the girls. They were five years old for fuck’s sake. Gorgeous twin, now fatherless. Ron paced and picked up the phone again.

“Dad, are you there dad?”

“Yea Ron, what’s up?”

“I have some bad news dad, Jay . . . Jay took his own life this morning. You there dad?”

“Oh shit, shit, shit . . . fuck! How, how did he do it? Shit Jay. No, don’t tell me, I don’t wanna know. Damn it Ron, was Jay upset about something, did something happen to the girls, to Sally?”

“No dad, nothing happened to the girls and Sally doesn’t know yet.”

“Oh no Ron, are you sure about this? Jay wouldn’t do a thing like this.”

“Listen dad, don’t go anywhere. I´ll be there in a bit, I just have to make some calls. Are you okay?”

“Ron? Did Jay take pills? No, don’t tell me.”

“I’ll be there in a bit dad, I have to call Sally.”

Ron covered his face with his sweaty hands and thought about his next move. His anger toward his brother was palpable; he was fighting emotions he detested, holding back tears and punching in the walls. Ron was the guy everyone counted on in a crisis, but this time he was letting everyone down. He needed to call Sally.

Sally was calm, detached even. She said she’d tell the girls, but that she wasn’t sure she’d let them attend Jay’s funeral. Ron was too caught up in his spiraling emotions to argue. He let her know that someone would send her the details of the funeral.

The whole family had issues with Sally. She obviously couldn’t be blamed for Jay’s suicide, but she’d certainly end up a scapegoat. She loved Jay at one time, but the depression, alcohol abuse, verbal assaults, all became too much for her and she needed to protect her daughters. Sally’s grief would not be acknowledged by anyone in Jay’s world; she’d have to deal with it on her own.

Ron was relieved that his mother had passed last year; Jay’s death would have surely killed her. Without his mother Leslie, Jay became despondent; Leslie was his only champion. Jay pissed off most of the people in his life. Still, no one sensed his desperation; maybe they did, but didn’t care.

What should Ron and Carrie tell his friends? Should they tell the truth and deal with awkward moments and stupid questions or do they say he had a heart attack? How many heart attacks were actually suicide? The twins deserved the truth about their father so that the healing could begin. Is it even possible to heal?

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I know this story is dark, however, it doesn’t hurt to be reminded that people close to us may be hurting and need our love and support.

Suicide thoughts or support in Portugal:

Emergency: 112 Suicide Hotline: 21 854 07 40 and 8 96 898 21 50

My friend Donna is getting married and we got to have a little party with her on the beach.

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Baseball is Not For Sissies

There were few things Ryan feared more than going up to bat. The judging stares of the other boys and his mother’s heavy expectations. Ryan figured if he swung the bat, missed the ball, and repeated the same pattern in rapid succession, it would be over quickly and he could return to hiding. He hated being a disappointment; scrawny and perpetually chewing his nails and sucking on bloody cuticles. His bedroom was his only safe space; Lady his only friend.

Ryan had one wish when he blew out the candles on his twelfth birthday, he wished he’d die before his next birthday. He longed to be understood. Lady, his scrawny terrier, got him, but she was the only being who didn’t judge or tease. To be invisible and no longer an embarrassment was all he ever wanted.

Lady tugged at his jeans hoping to pull him away from the darkness as she watched him descend. She feared the worst; spent hours wondering how she might warn Ryan’s mother. She understood a mother’s love, she felt that love for her own not too long ago. She nuzzled him, sidled up to him to distract him from his hopelessness, and tried to lick away his despair. Lady was certain that she could save Ryan from himself.

Saturday came too quickly and Ryan would once again be expected to play baseball. To behave as if this was the thing that would ultimately make Ryan a real boy; a boy that was prepared for manhood. The dread was so overwhelming, getting out of bed was an impossible effort. Taking Lady outside to relieve herself was his only motivation, she knew that and showed him her gratitude. Today was going to be horribly difficult for Ryan. He wished he could share his fears with his mother, but he knew she would tell him to shrug it off, man-up, just aim for the ball.

Lady tried to keep Ryan away from the lake. She headed in the opposite direction hoping he’d follow. She even faked being too tired to go on. Ryan was in some far off place where she couldn’t reach him. When he reached the lake, Lady ran off to warn his mom. When she got to Anne she wined and tugged until Anne finally seemed to get the message. Lady led her to the lake as fast as she could, panting and worrying herself the entire way.

Anne saw Ryan’s floating body as she approached the dock. He lay face down and still, as the shadow of the sun formed a halo around his fragile figure. Lady knew and she howled in despair. Ryan’s mom jumped in and dragged him to the dock. She lifted him up and he hit the dock hard. Anne frantically tried to revive him, but he’d been gone for too long. She called the police and held him while she waited for the medics to come and perform a miracle. She rocked Ryan in her arms and screamed into the silent nothingness.

Anne immediately started to blame herself. Was she too hard on Ryan? Should she have stayed with his father despite her hatred for him? Was Ryan trying to tell her he was hurting? Deep down she knew she could have been a better mother, but she also knew she would never know what Ryan was feeling as he threw himself into the lake on that quiet and torturous Saturday morning in July.

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Hoping to increase awareness of suicide in gay and troubled young people. The statistics are staggering. Thank you for reading, it means a lot. The first of many.

“Bullying of LGBT youth is a contributing factor in many suicides, even if not all of the attacks have been specifically regarding sexuality or gender.[4] Since a series of suicides in the early 2000s, more attention has been focused on the issues and underlying causes in an effort to reduce suicides among LGBT youth. Research by the Family Acceptance Project has demonstrated that “parental acceptance, and even neutrality, with regard to a child’s sexual orientation” can bring down the attempted suicide rate.” Wikipedia

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It’s Still Not Okay to Be Gay

Gay Pride Month Thoughts

Photo by Marcelo Chagas on Pexels.com

I’m sitting with friends having a light brunch and some bozo at the table says, “I’m not sure why Paul has to hide his sexuality, it’s so much easier to be out these days.” I sit on my hands and hold my tongue in a vice grip. People have this habit of wanting to brush over the truth to create their own sugar coated reality. The plain truth is that it is not so easy to be out of the closet in 2021. True there are pockets of the world where being gay is celebrated and respected; however, even in those places, it is complicated and uneven.

First, it’s important to note that being open about your homosexuality is against the law in certain parts of the world. You’d better hide it if you live in Brunei, Yemen, Somalia, or Iran. Death or imprisonment can be an almost certain deterrent. Come out to what I ask you? And if you don’t believe Americans are affected by what happens outside of the U.S. (and in some states), you are sadly mistaken.

“Same-sex sexual activity is a crime in 70 countries. Some of them, including six nations that are members of the United Nations, impose the death penalty. Another five make such punishment technically possible, even though it is rarely enforced. In 26 other countries, the maximum penalty is prison with terms varying anywhere from a few years to life imprisonment.” Hristina Byrnes  |  24/7 Wall Street, 2021.

Hence, the reason I hold my tongue. It’s nice to know I can marry a man in Portugal, but the reality that my gay brothers and sisters in so many other places, cannot, makes it difficult for me to celebrate. That guy screaming at my at 7:00 a.m. after Biden was elected, doesn’t help either.

“Why the fuck do you people need a parade anyway? Nobody cares.”

This vengeful serpent has many heads. When I go to a family wedding and family members are whispering about my sexuality, I can be out, I can be proud, I can even be partnered, but there is no way that I can say that I am content — nobody wants to be judged . . . least of all by my Christian aunties. Has it made me stronger? No doubt, I love being different, defiant, and getting all the attention has its appeal; however, I’d choose blending in with the wallpaper any day of the week.

Having cousin Ann say, “Aren’t you sick of hearing about gay rights?” That will never be okay.

We freer gays stand on the shoulders of individuals who have fought for basic rights for decades. I applaud and appreciate their efforts, but it isn’t over; it isn’t over by a mile. It was only months ago that transgender individuals were being told they could no longer serve in the military. And just because we have a new president and human rights and freedoms are being restored, does not guarantee one’s ability to serve in the future.

[I stopped writing yesterday; the anger and frustration were palpable. I needed perspective. I’m afraid it didn’t come.]

I’ve come to terms with who I am. I don’t apologize to anyone for it. I am no longer lamenting about what could have been: children, grandchildren, a 50th wedding anniversary. Coming to terms with the kicking and screaming that went on in my brain for decades, feels good. But I can’t help thinking about the kids everywhere who are tormented by their own questioning demons; when will they be relieved of their pain. As long as there are teens offing themselves because their being “fill-in-the-blank” does not fit into the “right” box, I cannot sit at the table and agree that coming out is easier.

“Shantay you stay.”

Rupaul

70 Hate Quotes & Sayings About Hating People for No Reason