The Memorial Cemetary

Hi Mom.  It’s me…Jimmy.  I’m sorry it’s taken me eight years to see you.   I just don’t think I was ready to do this.  

If you don’t recognize me, I’m not surprised.  I don’t look much like that very sad man you knew.   I do wish that you had understood me when I tried to explain to you that I was a transsexual.   You were in fact the first person I told.  And while you were the first person to be confused about how I could want to be a girl and still want to date girls, believe me you were not the last.  You like everyone else just thought I was gay.  And well yes, I guess that since I’m a woman now and am only attracted to other women that technically I AM gay.  I’m just not gay the way YOU thought I was gay.  I realize now that you tried very hard to be understanding.  You were incredibly supportive of your gay son even if he didn’t actually exist.  I guess I should have thanked you for that.

I think I came here to apologize.  I’m sorry for all the times we quarreled and wound up not talking to each other for years at a time.   I’m sorry that I was so completely unable to accept your limitations.  When you went all schizo on me, I should have taken an adult stance.  I should have realized that you were unable to control your behavior or what you saw that no one else could see.  You certainly didn’t want to be schizophrenic any more than I wanted to be trans.  I should have been the one to be understanding.  Me.   But you were my mother and when you flew off on your crazed rants, I became a little kid again, crying behind the dresser and wondering why I couldn’t have a normal mom.    I’m so sorry.  

I do miss you.  I know it’s probably hard to believe because it’s taken me eight fucking years to come out here to see you.   I do wish you were still in my life…but don’t take that as an invitation to go all dybbuk on me.   If I see any manifestation, I will exorcise your ass, you understand that?

I guess that’s pretty much all I have to say.   I’m not here to ask you for anything.  I don’t need you to watch over me or to heal me or get me a bike or whatever the hell it is that religious people ask their dead parents for.    I just wanted to say that I love you, Mama.   I always loved you and I always will love you.