"I yam what I yam."

and for those of you who think i can't smile or don't know how to have a good time.......

Can you guess which one i drive to work each day?

and you know, who cares what anyone looked like in high school!!! but then i found this morper shareware program and thought, hmmmmmm.....

These are some of the basic tenets of my life. People usually want to know physical characteristics, but they don't always give a true representation of the person. The rest are answers to questions people tend to ask of me on-line or things I think have made me who and what I am today.

"Husbands and wives come and go, but family will always be family..."

Did you ever wish you were born into another family? There were times when I wish that were true for me. Fortunately, with age and experience, I realized how lucky I was to have my family. My parents were married when they were 19 and 20. They waited six years before they had my oldest brother David, another four years for my brother Mark and I brought up the rear four years after that. Eight and four years are a long time when you are growing up. That is why I feel my brothers and I are so independent from each other...So, the way it worked out, I didn't have my brothers to watch over me during high school. Not that they would have...I was "perceived" as a favored child.

My father was a printer for 40 years for a large printing company. He started at the bottom and worked his way to the highest position in his department. I am very proud that he did so well with a sixth-grade education, coming from the "hollers" of Eastern Kentucky. I love my father, but always had a "healthy" fear of him. Since he was brought up in hard times with little to nothing, he has a very strong work ethic. He'd work 12 hour days, swing shift and we hardly ever saw him as we were growing up. Needless to say, he would never talk to us directly...he always went through mom. He was not available to any of us emotionally. He was a workaholic. But he was an excellent provider, which is what men during that time period were meant to do....provide food and shelter and the essentials. We were never without. However, he realized, several years ago, how much he missed out on in our lives.

My mother stayed home and raised the three of us. She managed the money and the household. How she did it with three screaming boys underfoot, none of us know. I look back on it and it seems like a totally different family. With Dad working so many hours, Mom depended on us to fill that emotional void. As we were growing up and becoming adults, it was very difficult for her to let go. It seemed that we were her lifeline to happiness. She dished out ample helpings of Catholic Guilt throughout the years. She changed, however, when she found out she had cancer...she lived with this disease for ten years and finally passed away in December of 1996.

My Mom found out I was gay by mistake. My friends would say, "Your mother knows....all mothers know." I would say, "Uh uh. Not MY mom." And I was right. There was not even a vague idea in the back of her mind somewhere....sounds like a true case of denial. She found a booklet in one of my pockets which identified me as a gay male. When I came home that night, she confronted me and asked if it were true. I promised myself that if they asked me, I would not lie. Although I was tempted to. For the next hour or so, I saw a side of my mother I had never seen: a hateful, selfish, vindictive woman. I remained calm and tried to allay her fears. She spent most of her life in front of the TV, so all she would know about homosexuality would be how it was portrayed on soap operas, movies and the news. To her, we were freaks and effeminate and promiscuous, etc., etc. I let her know that I was the same son I was when I left that morning and that I hadn't changed. But more than my keeping my "normalcy" intact, I wanted her to know that I was still a good son.

I feared it would be to no avail. I was ready to move out from my parents house at this point, thinking I would not be welcome anymore. The horror stories of friends who were thrown out of their parents home came back to haunt me.

A man I worked with knew my situation and he gave me the best advice I think I've ever been given. He told me (paraphrased):

"Jim, there are really only two things we(human beings) need to concern ourselves with: Love and Fear. Your mom knows you are gay now. She will either choose Love and you will continue to be a part of her life, or she will choose Fear and you will not. It's up to her. But you too have a choice between the two..."

When I came home that night, I was ready for Armageddon. My mom was a brave person, but it always seemed like she was afraid and fearful a lot of the time. She LOVED to have a good time and have fun, but often, she chose Fear. I figured this was the worst thing she would confront (after cancer) so I was not expecting to hear her tell me, "I want us to be a happy family. I don't understand it. But we will live with it. But DON'T tell your father...it will just KILL him." I respected her wish and she carried this with her until her death. She only brought it up one more time. She told me she couldn't stand to think of me "in those places (gay bars)" and "doing that with men (sex)." I told her she didn't have to worry about that, but I'm sure she never stopped..

Mom's last year was one of hospital visits and chemotherapy....loss of appetite and hair (that's one reason my head is shaved: solidarity for my mother)....and the constant wondering if she was going to get well again. My father took care of her every day, literally hand-fed her, forced her to exercise, and on and on....Both my parents aged considerably that year...

Since her death, Dad has been going through the motions...wishing he were dead too, but knowing he would just have to wait...During all this, he has learned that he has to rely on other people. He understands he can't do everything by himself....although he will try like hell to.

I lived with my parents for several years during this and it allowed me to spend time with them both. I was able to see and appreciate the people my parents had become. I was able to give support to my mother. Yet, my father's needs seemed to be nil. He was still the bulwark who did not need assistance or help, or he would appear weak and needy. After all, his role was to be the "Provider." Does any of this sound familiar to you and your family?

You've made it this far with me... thanks for hanging in there...

During Memorial Day Weekend, 1997, I was about to leave my father's house. I noticed him sitting on the couch, seemingly in a daze. So, I sat down in a chair and waited. My father had cried every day since mom died and I figured this was another one of those times. He beat around the bush, saying "I'm not saying you're gay, but you never had a girlfriend, you hang around with guys, etc." Finally, he asked me. Again, I kept my promise to myself and to them and I answered in the affirmative. He had known all along, but hoped he was wrong.

People who are not normally religiously devout, become so when confronted with something they know nothing about. I guess they need backup and who better than "God" to come to their aid? Of course, I got the usual "It breaks my heart..." and "As a Christian, I can't abide by this...you'll have to start paying rent...." (Where do they get these ideas?)

Well, the next day, I came home and it was like nothing ever happened. We continued on just as we always had. I moved out shortly after that, but continued to call every day. I'd visit him on the weekends and do chores around the house. I think the continued support made him realize that maybe having a gay son wasn't all that bad. After all, I'm his son first and foremost and nothing will ever change that...nothing.

That's why it saddens me when I hear of parents who disown their children. I was fortunate enough that both my parents chose Love so quickly. Still, it was not an easy path. But parents who hide behind ignorance and fear and use religion and God to further those negative emotions, I have to ask, "Who is the one with the problem?"

I'm including a link to PFLAG, which stands for Parents and Friends of Lesbians and Gays. From what I understand, they are a wonderful support group. Unfortunately, my parents never were ones for seeking help, but maybe you or yours could benefit from contact with PFLAG. There should be a chapter in most metropolitan areas.