B.O.Y.

I attended the surprise party this past week that my daughter Courtney (and his girlfriend, Anna) threw for her twin, Chris. It was a party to celebrate his one year for being on testosterone.  I drove from San Antonio to Austin in the truck with my youngest daughter, my husband and 3 very large blue balloons Courtney had bought and asked me to bring to the party.  The balloons were letters that spelled B.O.Y.

When we arrived at Courtney and Chris's house I helped prepare the food table.  I emptied the trash.  I put the dogs in the garage.  I mingled with the other 25 or so guests as we all waited for Chris to arrive through the front door.  I yelled "SURPRISE" when everyone else did as Chris crossed the threshold into his house filled with so many people that came to celebrate this day with him.  I watched as he moved through the room thanking everyone.  I stood quietly and watched.  And then I cried.  Just a little bit.

I cried because there was so much happiness in the room.
I cried because Chris was so happy.
I cried because I was happy.

I almost want to say that I cried because there was a part of me that was sad, as that makes for a more dramatic story - more of a story some people might want to read about - a mother in turmoil over this journey with Chris.  But I have already written that part of the story.  This is the beginning of the next chapters.  There were no tears of sadness.  There have been no tears of sadness for a while now and on this day of Chris's party, all I felt was ease and happiness.  To me, that's the better story - the one where the mother found peace in a situation she never imagined she would survive.  The one where there was this day of complete happiness for Chris and for me.

This party came on the heels of a phone call Chris and I had had the previous week wherein he informed me that he had just visited the Court House in Austin to begin the paperwork for changing his name from Chloe Nicole to Christopher Nicholas.  In that conversation he told me about a judge he'd stood before.  An elderly man.  A man he had no way of knowing how he would act or react, especially after he'd heard sad stories from friends who'd had bad experiences with judges when they went to change their names.  Chris described how kind the judge was, how engaging he was, how he made the experience so pleasant.  When Chris told me this story about the judge, I smiled, not just because I was glad the situation went smoothly, but because it gave me hope in people.

I know some of how far Chris has come over the last year since beginning to transition - since beginning on testosterone.  I know how far we have all come.  I know how far I have come.  I'm not so scared anymore and it really has so little to do with my own strength or fortitude - it has far more to do with the strength Chris has shown on this very difficult journey to change his life. Somewhere along the way I began to remember that some of my happiness was completely dependent on Chris's happiness.

A mother is only as happy as her unhappiest child ...