My Father Called Today

I assumed he had seen my post on Facebook about starting this blog and writing a book about my journey with Chris through his transition.  I assumed that is why he called this morning, my father.  He doesn't call that often, and to be honest, I seldom call him, as he lives in Florida and we don't necessarily have the sort of relationship where we talk often unless something is going on in either of our lives.  Granted, there is always something going on, but still, we seldom talk.  This is unfortunate, really, and something I should have tried to change many years ago, because, like this morning, when I do talk to him, I generally walk away from the conversation a little wiser and a little more relieved, be it of stress in my life, worries about this or that, or just relieved that the bond he and I have continues, regardless of years and years of neglect to keep it strong.

He called because he read an article yesterday about the high rate of suicide in trans individuals.  He didn't tell me that this was why he called until we had talked for nearly an hour - about Chris.  He said to me at some point, "The love of a child is one of the strongest loves on Earth, second, only really, to the love God has for us, which is impossible to even comprehend; it is so vast."  I said, "Yes."  He then asked, "Do you find that this has wavered at all?  Your love for Chris? Through it all?"  My answer came quickly, "Never."

My father called today to ask how Chris is doing, before even asking how I am doing - as it should be (with regard to this subject).  My father (and my mother) have both, surprisingly and gratefully, been very accepting of all that is going on with Chris and his journey.  I say "surprisingly", because my parents are obviously of an older generation that is sometimes very intolerant and resistant to accepting things that are contrary to their staunch (religious or otherwise) beliefs. Older people can be very set in their ways and many to do not feel the need to accept things that make them uncomfortable, nor do they, sometimes, embrace changes they do not comprehend - even if they might alienate loved ones because of their resistance.  My parents have each made the choice to embrace this change going on with Chris, lovingly and with complete acceptance - while they have both admitted that they do not truly comprehend it.  I have to give them a huge amount of credit because I know how difficult that can be.

I believe it was God that put me in my father's mind today - put Chris in my father's mind, as talking to him helped me tremendously.  It helped me realize that I am making the right choices - about so many things - including writing this book.  There are so many sides to this story that is unfolding in our lives and so many choices each of us have to make.  Through the course of the conversation with my very wise father, I admitted that it was on a day about five months ago, when I truly feared for the life of my child, that I began to lay down my life for his.  I am not sure Chris yet realizes this, as I have come to know that he has struggled for years with gender dysphoria and merely been focusing on surviving himself.  But I, too, am trying to survive, and putting aside so many of my wants and needs and wishes and beliefs is a very difficult thing for a mother to do in this situation, but I am, every day, trying to do all of that for him.  While I still have a well of emotions and fears and ongoing moments of resistance, I love this child unconditionally, as my father has loved me.

I will not write in my book about the statistics of suicide rates among individuals battling gender dysphoria or of individuals in the trans community, while that is a very real and frightening subject, but I will write about how that reality tremendously affected choices I have made in this journey. And ... I will write more about my father, as well.

(Note:  This attached picture is a charcoal self-portrait Chris did of himself in high school when he was still Chloe.  I think, now, this portrait is very telling.)