In writing about my childhood, I have often used the phrase to describe myself as, ‘a child who would be gay’ or ‘a child who would become gay’. But I recently read an author who used the term, ‘gay child’. I have hesitated to use the term, gay child, because it seemed to connote something sexual in childhood. But seeing the term used well has had me rethink my use of the term. Continue reading
My sister said it was exhausting to visit my father in the hospital because it is so hard to see our father in reduced physical circumstances. I do not think I agree. I am trying to balance my life with caring for my parents as they age. I do not want my own life to be subsumed by taking care of my parents, but at the same time I do not want to be cold towards my parents. But my father and I have a history of distance between us from a very early age that never really healed as I got older. Continue reading
I have never met anyone quite like my grandmother, or Gram, as we used to call her. One of my earliest memories of her is of the two of us walking down the street in Philadelphia when I was five or six years old. She was a fast walker and I had trouble keeping up. ‘Grab a wing, chicken,” she said, as she extended her arm to me and I hooked my little arm through hers. She loved that phrase, grab a wing chicken, and would laugh at herself every time she said it. Continue reading
My father had major heart surgery yesterday to reconstruct his mitral valve. It was done robotically with five small incisions. For an 87-year-old man, who is less than 36 hours out of surgery, he is doing amazingly well. Continue reading
I’m reading a wonderfully written book, She’s Not There: A Life in Two Genders, by Jennifer Finney Boylan. The story is about a man, James Boylan who became Jennifer Boylan and her journey. Continue reading
My father had robotic surgery today to repair the mitral valve in his heart. The surgery was done with the doctor controlling robotic arms that did the surgery. Continue reading
For me, Philadelphia, the city I grew up in, was a weight around my neck when I was in high school. I felt I could not be my true self in Philadelphia. When I went back to Philadelphia for graduate school and worked for my father’s company part time, I began see what living in Philadelphia would be like. My parents had a wide network of friends. My father served on multiple boards, had business and political connections across the city. My parents traveled in certain circles that, had I stayed, I would have been expected to travel in too. I hated it. Continue reading
