As I blog today, I sit in seat 15C of my Virgin America flight somewhere over Ohio (Hello Chad Fox). And, as I return to more regular blogging (sorry regular readers), I reflect on an amazing month where I’ve peddled for 545 miles in AIDS Lifecycle, visited friends and family in Maine and spent the past weekend in Hanover at my Dartmouth 20th Reunion.
The visit with my mother was predictably awkward. While it was nice to see her, I got the following phone call about halfway through my trip.
MOM: Are you planning to visit your brother?
ME: Of course, I always do when I’m home.
MOM: Well, he’d prefer that you don’t.
ME: May I ask why?
MOM: Well, you said something to him when you were teenagers and he’s upset.
ME: Are you FUCKING kidding me?
MOM: I hate being in the middle.
ME: Well, may making this call you have elected to. He’s 41 – why can’t he be an adult and tell me himself. This is because I’m gay, isn’t it?
MOM: Well, you know it doesn’t agree with his politics.
At this point, steam was pouring out of my ears. I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. The conversation dragged on – and I laid it all out on the table with my mother.
“I’ve had thousands of hours of therapy and I will tell you, Mom, what I’ve learned. First, he has always been #1 in your life and I have always been #2. Second, I have always been blamed — or taken the blame — for anything he has done wrong. You have defended him, supported him — do you ever stand up for ME when someone talks about me (and I know they do)???”
It felt good to get it all out there.
Onto better things. Just about all the gay guys from my college class rented a house on the Connecticut River for our Dartmouth reunion. Our friend Rachel also joined us and we coined the name “Six Fags” for our house (there were actually seven of us). I have to say that I thoroughly enjoyed my reunion. Now that we are all grown up, all my Dartmouth friends (gay and straight) rock and I’m proud of them. If I were to apply to college now knowing all that I know, I’m not sure I would still apply to Dartmouth but have to say my friends from there have been inspirational and supportive all at the same time. I can’t wait for my 25th and need to make an effort to get back east more often to see everyone.
In the photos above, you will see all of us enjoying Rachel’s homemade pancake breakfast, posing in front of Dartmouth Hall and dancing to an Upper Valley band extraordinaire (well, not really).
But now, as I return to San Francisco, I have my own life with the love of my life, Rich. I can’t wait to see him and the dogs. It’s been TOO long.
