horney paper storms: Family

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Dad Wears Dress in Solidarity With Dress-Loving Son

"A German father said that he sometimes wears skirts to support his son, who also prefers to wear skirts and dresses."

This is just a short three-paragraph article about a dad and his five year old son. You can link to the site here.

Dear Son...

Many of you may have already seen this letter since it appears to have gone viral. Thanks to Rolly for writing and telling us about it. Sometimes I'm not always in the "viral loop." There's a link to this guy's blog at the end.

Apparently a boy came out to his family and afterwards his dad wrote him a short note essentially disowning him. I saw the dad's note and couldn't stop crying. It was awful.

The blogger who wrote the following letter also saw the dad's note. He explained,
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My son is living in his mom's belly right now, so obviously we don't know his sexual orientation. Still, the letter I read Tuesday morning [of the dad who disowned his gay son] made me wonder what my letter would say if the news that my son was gay ended up being a surprise. So here it is:

Dear hypothetically gay son,

You're gay. Obviously you already know that, because you told us at the dinner table last night. I apologize for the awkward silence afterwards, but I was chewing. It was like when we're at a restaurant and the waiter comes up mid-bite and asks how the meal is, only in this metaphor you are the waiter, and instead of asking me about my meal, you said you were gay. I don't know why I needed to explain that. I think I needed to find a funny way to repeat the fact that you're gay... because that is what it sounds like in my head right now: "My son is gay. My son is gay. My son is gay."

Let me be perfectly clear: I love you. I will always love you. Since being gay is part of who you are, I love that you're gay. I'm just trying to wrap my head around the idea. If you sensed any sadness in my silence last night, it was because I was surprised that I was surprised. Ideally, I would have already known. Since you were an embryo, my intent has always been to really know you for who you are and not who I expect you to be. And yet, I was taken by surprise at last night's dinner. Have I said "surprise" enough in this paragraph? One more time: Surprise!

OK. Let's get a few things straight about how things are going to be.

Our home is a place of safety and love. The world has dealt you a difficult card. While LGBT people are becoming more accepted, it is still a difficult path to walk. You're going to experience hate and anger and misunderstandings about who you are out in the world. That will not happen here. You need to know with every fiber of who you are that when you walk in the front door of your home, you are safe, and you are loved. Your mother is in complete agreement with me on this.
I am still, as always, your biggest defender. Just because you're gay doesn't mean you're any less capable of taking care of and defending yourself. That said, if you need me to stand next to you or in front of you, write letters, sign petitions, advocate, or anything else, I am here. I would go to war for you.
If you're going to have boys over, you now need to leave your bedroom door open. Sorry, kiddo. Them's the breaks. I couldn't have girls in my room with the door shut, so you don't get to have boys.
You and I are going to revisit that talk we had about safe sex. I know it's going to be awkward for both of us, but it is important. I need to do some research first, so let's give it a few weeks. If you have questions or concerns before then, let me know.

That's enough for now. Feel free to view this letter as a contract. If I ever fail to meet any of the commitments made herein, pull it out and hold me to account. I'll end with this: You are not broken. You are whole, and beautiful. You are capable and compassionate. You and your sister are the best things I have ever done with my life, and I couldn't be prouder of the people you've become.

Love,
Dad

P.S. Thanks to a few key Supreme Court decisions and the Marriage Equality Act of 2020, you're legally able to get married. When I was your age, that was just an idea. Pretty cool, huh?

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Link to Ask Your Dad blog.

Happy Independence Day!

We're spending the day with my parents. They have a barbecue planned and we're going to relax in (and by) the pool. Plus, I get to wear my brand new dark blue Speedo (with a white racing stripe)!

How are you celebrating the holiday?

(If you're not in the U.S., how do you celebrate a similar type day in your country?)

Flying Under the Radar

This past week was difficult for me. Or maybe I should say the whole month has been difficult.

I wonder if anybody is aware of the fact that relationships with the people you love can sometimes be complicated and downright hard. Can I see a showing of hands? Anybody ever had that thought before?

I've been trying to "fly under the radar" this month. Trying to keep out of everybody's way. Trying not to bring other people down. Trying to keep most of my bad feelings deep inside me.

My counselor tells me I'm paying a high price for doing that. Something about how all those bad feelings can start eating away inside and turn into depression.

So, I've been trying to let some of those feelings out. Easier said than done, at least for me it is.

Sometimes when I'm deep in thought or worried about something, I get really quiet around Matty or other people. When people start asking me if I'm okay, I know I'm not doing a good job of hiding, or flying under the radar. Matty, for one, has a radar system that's super sensitive.

Or I do the opposite and put on a happy face. This one works a little better than getting quiet and withdrawn, but it takes a lot more effort and I can't keep it up for as long.

My counselor (who also seems to have a super sensitive radar system) got really direct with me in a session right before Father's Day. He said I seemed to be dodging his questions about some of my "real feelings" when he asked what my plans were for that Sunday.

So since his radar spotted me, I couldn't pretend there was nothing there. He never let's me get away with anything. It was hard because I wasn't sure what I was feeling about some of it and then it got me a little nervous to admit I was feeling more sad than I realized. It's damn hard to look at all this stuff because some of it is the first time I've gone into this much detail. I think it's helping me be more honest with myself which is good but still not easy.

Then I had a session where I walked in his office, sat down, and didn't say anything at first. I just sat there and waited. And he just sat there and waited, too. I think his radar was getting some signals that something was in his air space and he was trying to study the instrument panel.

I was sitting there for about a minute or two, but it really felt like an hour. When I looked up at him, I started crying. He just moved the Kleenex over to me and waited some more.

When I finished crying, I just looked at him like he was suppose to tell me what just happened or to do something to fix me. I can't remember his exact words, but he said something like, "I'm sitting here thinking you wanted me to see how you feel inside. Do you want to talk about whatever it is?" Then all I could do is start crying again.

I worry sometimes that people might not like what they see and leave me. My counselor said maybe I could start by practicing with him more. Letting him see more of my feelings. I can always go back under the radar whenever I want. He said I'm the pilot and it's my plane.

Remember that sentence at the beginning of this post where I said, "...relationships with the people you love can sometimes be complicated and downright hard"? Mark that sentence down, underline it, put it in CAPITAL LETTERS, and make it all bold.

There's no doubt in my mind that I love my dad. There's no doubt in my mind that my dad loves me. Is it unconditional love? Nope. We both have strings attached.

My dad has always had reservations about me, going back as far as I can remember. I wrote about it once in that post about My Dad and His Girly-Boy Son. Everything in that post was true, except that I left out some details I didn't want to share at the time. Talking about your dad slapping you and shoving you against the wall and calling you horrible names when he's drunk is not a pretty picture.

I guess it's pretty natural that I would have some reservations about my dad. It's a relationship with some strings attached. Or maybe a better way of saying it, it's a relationship I approach with caution.

As Father's Day was getting closer, I started having these dreams where everybody was leaving me. Trying to get as far away from me as possible. Right before I woke up, I was standing in this field somewhere all by myself. It was like one of those "end of the world" stories where you're the only person left on earth.

Am I all alone in the world? Nope. Not by a long shot.

Do I worry that people might leave me, including those who love me? Yep. I worry about that. I even worry sometimes that Matty might leave me, even though that's not based on anything that's happened between us. I'm trying as hard as I can to make what I feel be more realistic instead of living in fear.

So my dad wanted to talk to me this weekend about my tuition. If you remember, he told me a little while back he had reservations about helping me out with going to culinary school after getting my college degree. He said it didn't seem the same to him as getting a master's degree, which he had already said he would help with.

Each day that got closer to this past Saturday was making me more and more anxious. I started flying under the radar again and not saying much about how I was feeling. I figured out that my anxiety was not because he might refuse to help with culinary school. I don't expect my dad to be my personal bank. If he didn't want to help pay for culinary school, I would plan to find other ways (all legal) to come up with the money.

What I figured out was that "...relationships with the people you love can sometimes be complicated and downright hard." Every feeling I ever had about my dad started bubbling up last week. The money issue was just what opened the floodgates. This was about our whole nineteen-and-a-half year relationship -- all the good... all the bad.

Matty never left my side all day Saturday. I could tell my dad was not entirely comfortable with him being there while we talked about tuition. I could also tell he knew Matty was not going anywhere.

Nothing is changing as far as him paying my college tuition (minus some scholarship money I have). He asked if I was still thinking about "cooking school" (his words). I looked him straight in the eyes and said, "I'm not thinking about anything. I'm going to culinary school."

He sorta nodded his head and I know him well enough that he was biting his tongue and not saying everything on his mind. I just kept staring at him. Matty leaned a little forward and put his hand over mine. After a pause he asked if I had any brochures or websites for culinary schools (notice how he's now using the correct term). I said I would email him the URLs.

We'll see what happens next. I'm not talking here so much about whether he's going to help out with culinary school. What I mean is, we'll see what happens next in our relationship. This is not about the money. This is about our relationship. We'll see what happens next.

I'm still flying some under the radar. But I'm trying to be more aware of my feelings and fears, where they come from, what they mean. And talking about all that with my counselor.

I'm especially trying to let Matty know where my head is when sometimes all I want to do is fly under the radar and shut him out. It means the world to me that he believes in me and that I can work all this out. Or, as he says, that we can work all this out. That we're capable of doing this together. When he tells me that, I completely forget about the radar. All I want to do is fly high.

Growing Up, I Guess

I've been going back and forth about whether to post this or not. It's not an easy thing to talk about and I've discussed the whole thing with Matty about whether I should do this. He hasn't tried to influence me one way or the other, but has been incredibly helpful in going over the pros and cons. He also suggested that I write it all out and then decide if I wanted to post it. After I decided, he said I had a lot of courage and he was proud of me.

We haven't posted anything this week (except for some eye candy on Monday) and it's been a while since we wrote about anything terribly personal. I now think I'd like to share a little bit of what's been happening for two reasons. The first is that writing this has helped me get clear in my head about what I'm feeling, and the second is that I thought maybe it might be helpful somehow to somebody reading this who might be going through something similar.

I've written before about my relationship with my dad. We had a rocky relationship when I was a little kid going back as far as I can remember. I don't want to rehash everything I've already written but there's a post I titled My Dad and his Girly-Boy Son where there's a little more detail. There's one sentence in that post that's not true. I said that my dad had never been physically abusive to me when he had been drinking. At the time I wrote that I honestly didn't think his shoving me against the wall or slapping me was considered "abuse." Mainly because I felt like I provoked him and had a part in it.

When he was drinking he turned into somebody I didn't recognize and would say really nasty things. My mom and sister would stay out of his way when he got like that, but yours truly would start arguing with him and start calling him names, which only made things worse.

I would get in his face and start yelling at him, which got me shoved and pushed against the wall. A few times I wasn't quick enough on my feet, or maybe it was stubbornness, but I tried to stand my ground and I got slapped. I never saw it as "abuse" because I felt like if I had kept my mouth shut and just left the room, he might have calmed down. Instead, I felt like I had only made it worse.

Well, my dad finally stopped drinking and started going to A.A. and eventually our whole family started going to see this family counselor. The counseling really helped all of us and we got a lot of things out on the table. My dad and I even talked about times he use to make fun of me for being "girly" when I was a little kid and when he called me his "faggot son" when I came out to them.

He apologized for all that and he and I even saw the counselor by ourselves for maybe 4 or 5 sessions. I got the chance to say everything I was feeling and he took responsibility for what he said and how he acted. It was a major breakthrough in our relationship and we eventually started getting close. When Matt came into the picture, he welcomed him and things finally seemed like they were starting to work out.

At the beginning of this year, one of the Resolutions I made had to do with my dad. I said I was realizing that the family sessions we had really didn't solve all the feelings I was having about what happened. Here's what I wrote:

"So what's the problem? Well, for some reason, getting everything out in the open, telling each other how we really feel, and my dad apologizing, hasn't erased all the bad memories. They're still there and I wish they would go away and stop bothering me."

I'm pretty good at pushing those bad memories away so they don't bother me too much. Every now and then they come back, but I just get my mind on other things and life goes on. The problem is a couple of weeks ago they all came rushing back like one of those high-speed trains that go hundreds of miles an hour down the track. And I haven't been able to slow the train or push anything in the background.

We were visiting my family and I was talking about my decision to eventually go to culinary school after I finished college. I honestly can't remember all the details of the conversation or how it got to the point where my dad made a sarcastic remark about my plans. It took me totally off guard and at first I thought he was just joking or maybe was in a bad mood or something like that. Later in the afternoon when he and I were alone, I knew he wasn't joking.

He set up a college fund for me after I was born, which I guess is something other parents sometimes do. His plan was for me to use the money to get through college (minus any scholarships I might get) and to hopefully be able to pay for a master's degree after college.

He asked me if the culinary training would result in a master's degree and I told him it wouldn't. Some schools offer a master's degree but it's mainly for people who want to study "food science," something called "Human Resource Management in a Hospitality Setting," "Cost Control," etc. None of that is anything I'm interested in. Whatsoever. I want the basic diploma and certification as a Chef. Plus a master's degree takes longer and costs a ton of money. Regardless of that, I'm just not interested in it.

My dad said I would be on my own if I didn't get a master's degree. When he told me that I just listened. I mean, he had already said the deal had always been to help with a master's degree. I got a little confused because getting a basic diploma and certification would cost a hell of a lot less than a master's degree. But it's his money and it was pretty clear he had made up his mind.

Then he made a few more sarcastic remarks about my career choice (or in my mind, my career dream). Let me put it this way. The tone of his remarks was that a culinary career was not a "real" career. He's always hoped I would go into something similar to the kind of work he does. I guess he sees being a lawyer as "real" work and being a chef as something frivolous. I'm beginning to think he sees being a chef as nothing more that "just cooking," which I think in his mind is "women's work." Yeah, I'm beginning to see my dad as more chauvinistic than I thought.

I tried to explain that there were probably more males as professional chefs than women, but I guess when you're talking to somebody with a closed mind, you're wasting your time.

Before we dropped this so-called "conversation" we were having, he made some really vague comments about how maybe it was a "waste" of money for him to be paying for even my college education. I guess because there's no master's degree coming out of it when it's all over, maybe he was thinking my college degree was a "waste." I couldn't even talk about this any more with him, so I dropped it and Matty and I went home.

What's been happening with me after all this is what I mentioned earlier. There's been a high-speed train of emotions running at maximum speed in my mind. Memories of all the crap I've gone through in my life are on that high-speed train and I can't stop thinking about it. I haven't been able to make it go away and every day it's been getting worse.

By this time, I'm not even thinking about what got this high-speed train moving. By that I mean I've been going back and reliving all the bad stuff in the past. I can't stop thinking about it.

I've stayed home from school several times because I couldn't get out of bed. All I seem to want to do is sleep and for everybody to leave me alone. I sometime forget to eat and when I do I have to force myself to swallow and even than I have an upset stomach and get nauseous. I'm tired all the time in spite of all the sleep I get. When I'm awake I'm irritable and on edge, almost like I'm ready to snap or pick a fight. There's been a few times when my heart started pounding and I had trouble breathing. I had this feeling that something really bad was about to happen to me, but I couldn't pinpoint what that bad thing was. And the tears? It doesn't take much for me to just start crying. Sometimes I'm not even aware of thinking about anything and I start crying.

I've yelled at Matty a few times when he's tried to talk to me or give me reassurance or comfort, something I'm really ashamed of. I know he's been worried and when he makes a comment about how little I've been eating or my wanting to sleep all the time, I've gotten mad at him. We've been able to talk about it, and I've apologized, and things are a lot better between us now. I've been able to see that he's just been a ready target for a lot of stuff I feel towards my dad. We're better now and I have no idea how I would be getting through all this without him.

Well, all this has led me to a decision I made to call and get an appointment to see a therapist for myself. There's no way I'm ready to talk to my dad about all this. And I don't feel ready to even talk to him with a therapist present. Since all this has happened, he's not called me and I've not called him.

I'm just not able to pull myself out of this and things seem to be getting worse instead of better. I'm also beginning to wonder if maybe I've been sad or depressed or anxious most of my life and I've just been able to push it back.

Matty's done everything he can to help me with this. I could write a whole post describing how much he's helped me. I've talked to a couple of friends I trust, and they've been incredibly helpful and supportive. I could also write a whole post describing how helpful they've been to me.

The thing is, I don't want to risk bringing them down. So I called student health services on campus and talked to them about how I could see a therapist there. I have an appointment today at 3:00 pm for what they call an intake appointment. I'll be meeting with this woman to answer questions about why I want to begin counseling, and she's apparently going to be asking about my background and history and so forth. They already sent me this 25-page questionnaire with every question you can imagine, all the way from whether I've ever wet my bed, to my sex drive, to questions about suicide, to how I feel about God, and to whether I have pets. Then she said they will assign me somebody to talk to who they think would be a good match for me.

I'd be lying if I said I wasn't scared shitless about this. I worry that talking about all this stuff will just make that high-speed emotional train go faster and will make things worse.

The friends I've talked to said it's normal to feel this but the whole purpose of therapy is to get to the bottom of things and work my feelings out, or learn ways to deal with my feelings and my past. I trust what they say and this is the main reason I haven't cancelled my appointment. I don't think I'd have the strength within me to do this without their support.

It scares me to open up to a stranger and talk about all this. I worry what they'll think of me. Will they think I'm some spoiled brat or some weak immature kid who's trying to act like an adult when he really just needs to "buck up" and quit feeling sorry for himself. Will they think I'm making a mountain out of a mole hill (an expression my dad use to make all the time).

A couple of my friends have said I probably have some kind of depression or anxiety and this recent thing with my dad just brought it all to the surface. I guess that's what I'll be talking about in therapy.

I've been wanting to think all this was just normal "growing up" stuff and I'd get through it on my own. But things aren't getting better with me... they're getting worse. I'm trying really hard to see asking for help as a sign that I'm "growing up," but the kind of growing up that will hopefully help me "be" grown up in the end.

I'm hopeful. At least I have that.

Matty mentioned yesterday that Christmas is his favorite holiday whereas Thanksgiving is my favorite. Well, I think we're having a big influence on each other when it comes to the holidays. He really got into the Thanksgiving spirit this year and now I'm finding myself getting into the Christmas spirit.

I've always like Thanksgiving best because of all the cooking involved, at least that's how it's been with my family. I know, I know, lots of people don't like to cook, but it's one of the things I really enjoy.

My mom's about the best cook I know and when I was growing up I use to love spending time with her in the kitchen, especially during the Fall and Winter.

She's one of those cooks who can start with an idea about something she wants to make and then she starts adding things or changing things from a recipe she might be following. I always loved watching her cook. It was one of those times she reminded me of a little girl.

When she was in the kitchen, she was in some kind of Happy Land. I remember her saying things like, "Hmmmm, let's see what we can do with beef stew." Then you could almost see her ideas spinning around inside her brain as she would go to the cabinet and pick out three or four different spices she thought might be friends. It really was like she was doing some kind of matchmaking with those spices!

And believe me, the kitchen was her domain. That may be part of the reason I'm so protective of our kitchen now, in addition to trying to keep Matty from burning the house down! Like I've said before, he's only allowed to push the buttons on the microwave and get stuff out of the fridge, and I have to be in the kitchen or close by when he does those things! LOL. I'm really just exaggerating when I say that, but not by much!

Being in the kitchen with my mom was also a time when we would open up to each other about things on our mind. While I was busy stirring things in a bowl and she was busy chopping celery or peppers, I could talk to her about personal things that were going on in my life. I would tell her about what was happening in school, how I was getting along with certain friends, stuff I was worried about, movies I liked, things like that. Not really earth-shattering topics but things that were on my mind.

She would tell me things about how she got along with her parents or stories about how she dealt with things when she was my age. Then, sometimes right in the middle of throwing some ingredients together in a bowl, she would stop, look at me, and say something like, "Did I ever tell you about when I skipped school in the seventh grade?"

Those were the moments I always waited for. I knew she was about to either tell some secret, or something about her past I had never heard before. And it always ended up being something either funny or mildly shocking, not bad shocking, but just something kinda surprising I never knew about her before.

We also use to tell each other jokes while we were cooking. And we had this one game we played where we would sorta invent a new joke. One of us would start things off with the first sentence of a joke and neither of us would have any idea how the joke might end up. We would go back and forth, each just adding one sentence, until it was pretty clear what the punch line might be. If we got stuck, we'd agree to revise some sentence in the joke, like add another character or change the situation they were in, and the story would take off with a life of its own.

I have no doubt that's where I got my love of cooking. Making up recipes, talking to my mom when we were both the most relaxed of all, and then eating and enjoying all those dishes we came up with together.

I've been thinking for a long time about "what I want to be when I grow up." My dad's a lawyer so naturally I've thought about that. But I honestly don't think I'd be any good at it. I know there's a lot of creativity involved in being a lawyer, like how to take some situation a person's in, think about what all the different laws have to say about it, then think about how you're going to put a case together and hopefully help the person. But it just seems to require a certain way of thinking that makes my head hurt when I think about doing it myself.

I guess it's no surprise that I'm about 90% sure I want to be a cook or a chef or do something connected to cooking. I want to finish college first and get that basic degree, but I'm seriously thinking about going to a school where I can learn about culinary art. Nothing is written in stone, of course, so I might end up doing something else. One thing I know for sure is that I like to read a lot and cook, especially baking. Those are two strong passions I have. Maybe I'll end up being a chef and writing cook books, who know? That way I can combine both things. Or maybe I'll eventually own a restaurant. When I think about all this, I get really excited, so I guess that means something, right?

Anyway, I have some time to think this all the way through. In the meantime, I'm getting ready to do some more cooking for the upcoming holidays. Maybe I can now add Christmas cooking to all the Thanksgiving cooking I love to do.

Matty's getting excited about what kind of gifts he wants to buy our families and our friends, so while he's out shopping, maybe I'll have time to think about making up some new recipes. I also like it when he sits in the kitchen with me while I'm baking. We've had some really fun conversations and, of course, he's always staring at that icing in the bowl, waiting to lick the spoon. I'm starting to really get into the holiday spirit now.

19 Year Old Guy With Courage

Zach Wahls is a 19-year-old college student from Iowa. Here's a video of him making a speech before a committee of the Iowa state legislature this past February considering a constitutional amendment to overturn the marriage equality law.

Source: Posted on Advocate.com, December 01, 2011, "Instant Classic: Zach Wahls Speech Goes Viral Again," by Julie Bolcer.

The New Love Birds

Well, it looks like Brad and I can officially claim the title of "Matchmaker."

If you remember from our post a few days ago, we invited two of our friends to spend Thanksgiving Day with us. My friend, Mark, and Brad's friend, John, are now what my brother would call, "a hot ticket."

They had never met before but we thought they might hit it off, and boy is that an understatement!

My friend, Mark, has been about as happy as I've ever seen him in a long time. He's been calling me, texting me, emailing me, and I'm expecting to see one of those carrier pigeons with a note from him arrive at the front door any moment.

I'm really happy to see how happy he is. He's had some very difficult things to deal with in his life, beginning with being kicked out of his home when he was 16 after telling his parents he was gay.

He's also dated a few guys in the past who treated him badly and is understandably careful about how much he opens himself up to people. We've both been telling him to just take his time and not rush anything, which is always good advice to give, especially when you're first starting to date someone new. But, because you're all excited, it's not always easy advice to follow.

The guy he's dating, John, went to high school with Brad and I met him for the first time about a year ago. He's really sweet and a little shy and the first time I met him he was so nervous I wouldn't like him. He and Brad really understand each other in a lot of ways and have always been the tightest of friends.

Both of John's parents are heavy drinkers and there was a lot of chaos going on at home. He and Brad have always been so supportive of each other since Brad's father was a heavy drinker until about a year and a half ago. From what Brad has told me, when you grow up in that kind of situation at home, it makes you have second thoughts about being open and trusting with other people. We haven't written anything here in the blog about how that's affected our relationship, but Brad's thinking about sharing some of that at some point.

Anyway, all this has made Brad and I think a lot about how important family is. We're all born into a family of some sort, and if you're lucky that family accepts you and loves you and cares about you. No family is perfect, but you always hope there's enough maturity on the parent's part to know how to handle the problems. If that maturity is not there, at some point it's important to find people in your life who you can trust and maybe make your "chosen family."

It feels good to us to see both Mark and John so happy. It's been less than a week since they first met each other but it reminds the two of us how excited and nervous we were during that first week after we met.

It also makes us feel good that both Mark and John trust us enough to talk about their feelings, ask our advice, and want our support. It's an awesome responsibility to be someone's "chosen family," and we feel like ours has just expanded.

Now, if you'll excuse me, I think I just saw that carrier pigeon fly by the window. It probably has a note from Mark and I need to see what's up. Talk to you guys later. Have a nice day.

Family, Friends, New Traditions

Just a brief post today since it's still a holiday of sorts here in the U.S.

Black Friday, the day after Thanksgiving, is a huge shopping day when some people start lining up at midnight (or for some chain stores, even earlier) shopping.

Thank God I hate going to malls because it always looks like total madness when you watch these people on TV rushing into stores, sometimes knocking each other aside, trying to get their shopping carts full with items that are sometimes 60 to 80% off the regular price. If you're one of these people, no offense, but I've never understood the appeal other than you can really get great discounts on lots of items. I think it was last year that one or two people were killed when a store opened it's doors at midnight and people rushed in and trampled on other shoppers.

We had a really nice Thanksgiving yesterday. I had invited a friend from one of my classes, who's from Italy, to join me and Brad as we made the rounds at our parent's homes. Giovanni (not his real name, but I've always liked the sound of it) was just planning on eating lunch and dinner at the university cafeteria. He came over early yesterday and went with us to my parent's house around noon and then Brad's parent's house around 3:00 PM. He also joined us for desserts at our house, and we had invited him to spend the night with us if he liked.

Giovanni is a really nice person and he arrived bringing 3 bottles of Italian wine (the real stuff) he had gotten a friend of his to purchase. You have to be 21 to buy alcohol in Massachusetts. He brought one bottle for my parents, one bottle for Brad's parents and he gave one bottle to me and Brad.

I had also invited a friend of mine to come over around 6:00 PM for Brad's wonderful dessert buffet. This friend, Mark (not his real name), was kicked out of his parent's house when he was 16 when he told his parents he was gay. He lives now in an apartment with 4 other people and wanted to spend the day with them, but he came over at 6:00 to spend the rest of the evening with us. We had also invited him to spend the night.

Brad invited a friend of his (I'll call him John, which is not his real name) from high school, who also has a really strained relationship with his parents since coming out to them, to join us at 6:00. Brad told him he would be welcome to spend the night also, if he wanted to.

We ate a light dinner at my parents, since it was going to be just round one for the day. My family fell in love with Giovanni. He's 20, a little shy, about as cute as you can imagine, and completely straight. When he presented his gift bottle of Italian wine to my parents, I think they immediately fell in love with him. My dad used his wine, among some other bottles from his own collection, to make a toast to everyone, which is a family tradition we have before dinner.

My younger brother invited his new girlfriend, and I have to say I almost didn't recognize him! He's never put much effort into dressing up for anything. He's usually in jeans, a t-shirt and a baseball cap. Well, with his girlfriend there, the boy really outdid himself. I've never seen him in khaki pants before and he had this really nice emerald green sweater, and to top it off, he had gotten a hair cut and had obviously spent some time with jell to add some lift. I think for the first time I realized my little brother has grown up. In additon to obviously trying to impress his new girlfriend, he certainly impressed everybody in my family. My dad jokenly asked who he was and who had invited him to our home! LOL. He was a good sport and you could tell his girlfriend was loving it.

We went to Brad's parents later that afternoon and had an equally good time. If you remember from what Brad's written some time ago, he's always had a rocky relationship with his dad, until fairly recently. His dad had a problem with drinking and has been completely sober now for about a year-and-a half. Plus, thanks to some family counseling they've had, he and his dad seemed to have repaired their relationship quite a bit and his dad has even apologized for having called him some really hurtful names about Brad being gay when Brad was younger.

Around 6:00 PM, Brad, myself and Giovanni headed back to our house and were joined by my parents, Brad's parents and our two friends. It was really nice having nine guests to enjoy all the dessert baking Brad had done. Needless to say, the desserts were a huge hit!

After our parents left, it was just Brad, myself, Giovanni and our two friends. We were all so stuffed from two dinners and these unbelievably delicious desserts that we just sat around for a while talking and looking like five couch potatoes.

Giovanni volunteered to sleep on the sofa and John and Mark, who had never met each other before, took the guest bedroom. We both knew the two of them would hit it off and you could tell they were starting to crush on each other. We knew something was up when they were sitting beside each other all evening, and at one point were holding hands! These guys didn't waste any time! We had a sleeping bag ready and this inflatable mattress for one of them, and were going to offer the bed to the other. Well, they had other plans. They took the sleeping bag and inflatable mattress, but that bed looked too comfortable, I guess, because they ended up sleeping together.

So, today, we decided to start a new tradition for the day after Thanksgiving. We're going to be watching two movies, both classic in some way. We'll be watching the original Frankenstein in just a little while and then later on we'll be watching A Day at the Races with the Marx Brothers. Instead of popcorn, we've still got all these delicious desserts and Brad picked up some egg nog to top things off. I swear we're probably gonna gain 10 pounds from all this eating, but we know of some ways to lose it if that happens. They say vigorous exercise always helps, and you can probably guess what we have in mind! LOL.

Anyway, I started this off as a "brief post," but you know me! So, I'm gonna close now and get back to our guests. Thanksgiving has this new meaning for me now. Like the title I gave this post, it's all about Family, Friends and New Traditions. Hope everyone has a nice weekend. And, as Giovanni would say, buonasera!

Odds & Ends: The Yard Boy and Thanksgiving Plans

Just some odds and ends today.

Now that I've got the Yard Boy (aka Matty) outside raking leaves where he's most happy when we do house cleaning things, I'm taking a short break between getting the house clean and starting my Thanksgiving cooking.

If you remember for a while back, we both figured out that we make a pretty good partnership when it comes to the division of labor with house maintenance matters. I have absolutely no interest in cutting the grass, raking leaves, trimming the hedges, etc. And Matty has some kind of serious phobia about being cooped up inside to vacuum, dust, clean closets and cook.

I've made it clear I'm in total charge of anything having to do with the kitchen. He's pretty much mastered the art of boiling water without burning the kitchen down and he can also press a button on the microwave to make us popcorn when we watch a movie. But that's it!

He absolutely has to stay away from any sharp objects like the knives and if he gets anywhere within 10 feet of the blender, he knows I'm gonna tackle him to the floor. A few weeks ago he was trying to make himself some kind of energy drink in the blender by mixing in all sorts of really gross smelling protein things. When he got it all in and pressed the button to blend it all together, the plastic top flew off and all that gross smelling liquid went spewing all over the kitchen! So the blender is now a no, no!

We have some really cool neighbors and Matty's made friends with the guy next door and this other man across the street. They saw him going for a run after we first moved in and invited him to join them in the evenings and on the weekends. Both these guys also love working outdoors in their yards, so now Matty has some "playmates" he can commiserate with about hating indoor house work!

I'm spending the rest of this afternoon getting a head start on some Thanksgiving baking. All I'm doing is making different pies, cakes and some cookies. For Thanksgiving we're going to Matty's parent's house around 12 noon, since they tend to celebrate a little earlier than my family. Around 3:00 we'll head over to my parent's house to spend some time with them and finish eating what we have room for in our tummies!

Then, at 6:00 that evening, both Matty's parents and mine, along with 3 of our friends, will meet at our house for all those desserts I'm starting to bake today. Matty invited a fellow student from one of his classes to join us who's from Italy and would be alone that day. And we have 2 friends who have really strained relationships with their parents to also join us.

Thanksgiving is probably my favorite holiday of the year. I love the cooking that's involved and it's a chance to show off all the baking skills my mom taught me, and believe me, she's a pro with desserts!

Matty says Christmas is his favorite holiday, and can we all guess why? Yes, is someone raising their hand? Yes, that's right. He's like this little kid with excitement when he gets to open all the presents he gets. And, it's the only time he actually likes to go shopping to buy presents for other people.

Anyway, I need to go check on Yard Boy before I get back to my baking. He always beams when I look excited to see how nice he's gotten the yard. Positive reinforcement is a godsend! Plus, he really does an exceptional job on the yard and my excitement to see what he's done is completely genuine.

So, hope everyone is having a nice weekend! Talk to you later!

Remembering September 11, 2001

Brad and I don't usually post anything on Sundays, but we thought we would say something about this 10th anniversary of the September 11, 2001 attacks.

We were both pretty young on that day. I was 9 years old and Brad was 8 (soon to turn 9 a few months later).

My dad had saved his New York Times newspaper dated September 12 and he and my mom were looking through it yesterday. Brad was over at my house and we happened to walk in the dining room where they had it spread out. I had no idea my dad had saved the paper so Brad and I sat down and began looking through it. I asked my dad why he never mentioned having saved the paper. He said it was always hard to look through it and had only done so a couple of times over the past 10 years. Then he told me one of his best friends knew someone who died that day in one of the Towers.

I got to the editorial page and started reading what one columnist had written. I want to re-print the first few paragraphs here because he mentioned something about school children learning about the news at school. Then it brought back all kinds of memories for me. Remember, I was 9 years old and Brad was 8.

The title of the column was, A Different World and was written by Anthony Lewis:

"A man who worked on one of the top floors of the World Trade Center saw that he was trapped. He telephoned his wife that he was trapped. He wanted her to remember that he loved her and loved their children. They are 1 and 3 years old.

"A friend of his told me the story. More even than the television images, it brought home the pain, and the terror.

"Thousands upon thousands of Americans will have a personal connection to a victim. Or we will imagine the feelings of the passengers on those planes, knowing they were flying to death. School children across the country will remember the day their classes were interrupted to give them the news. We will all be marked forever by this day."

There are 2 things that stand out for me today as I try to remember that day.

One is that it was very scary and confusing because teachers had mentioned something about Boston being involved. I thought it was Boston that was being attacked in addition to New York City and Washington, D.C. and somewhere in Pennsylvania.

The teacher was trying to explain what had happened and was doing it in a calm way but you could see it in her face that she was very different from how she usually was. She looked calm on the outside but looked scared on the inside.

She eventually explained that the airplanes had flown out of Boston, but that Boston was okay. I don't think she was totally convinced that Boston was really okay. And that made me and I think everybody else scared. Later in the day she gave us a very simple and clear version of what had happened and assured us that Boston was okay. She seemed to really believe it this time, and I felt safer.

The second thing that stands out for me now is remembering how important it had been for the adults to remain calm, give lots of reassurance, make everything clear, and answer every question you had honestly but in language you could understand. Thinking about it now I realize how children get their guidance about managing emotions from the adults around them. My parents did a really good job. They sat me and my two brothers down and explained what had happened and kept reassuring us that we were safe. And they answered every question we had in a way we could understand.

Even though I was too young to understand everything that happened in the days and weeks and months later, what I will always remember about that day was how important people in my life (my teacher and my parents) cared about me and took charge in helping me understand what was happening and to reassure me that I was safe and loved.

What Brad Didn't Say...

There were two things Brad failed to mention in his post yesterday. And I think they are both worth mentioning.

The first was that he was the total center of attention at the party.

The second is that I finally got to meet his grandparents. His grandmother, "Nana," and his grandfather, "Papa," so totally adore Brad that I had a hard time taking my eyes off how they doted on him!

It was really special to me that I was invited since this was the first time I got to meet everybody. His aunt and uncle had us all out to their place and we had this huge cookout that was so spectacular. Some neighbors were also invited and I guess all told there were maybe 20 people there. They have this really nice swimming pool and the weather couldn't have been nicer.

When I told Brad I wanted to write about how he was the center of attention, he just rolled his eyes and turned five shades of red. I think the boy was so focused on being self-conscious about being almost naked in his new, sexy Speedo that he wasn't aware that people were just admiring him. I mean, it wasn't like they were lusting after him (like I was, of course), but I think it was more like they were kinda seeing him in a brand new light -- and not in a bad way. It was like they were seeing him as this really confident, handsome, sexy guy who was no longer "Little Brad," the cute teenager who never seemed, for some reason, to have a boyfriend. I kept hearing comments like, "My, my, look how you've grown up."

Well, maybe I should take back part of what I just said... the part about how they were not lusting after him. This was coming not from his family, but from some of the neighbors -- especially two sisters from next door. One was 16 and the other was 18. They initially didn't know Brad was gay, or that I was his boyfriend, so I guess they figured they would move in and get acquainted. I mean, who could blame them? Here's this totally cute and hot guy just being his charming self. How could they not notice? They said later they had thought I was a friend of his, but they definitely had their eyes on him! I was just basking in the sun, hiding behind my sunglasses, and enjoying the show! So sweet! So cute!

They were totally embarrassed after a while to find out that I wasn't Brad's "friend," but his boyfriend. Neither of them had a problem with us being gay, but I definitely think the older girl was feeling let down (probably how I would feel if I had my eyes on Brad for the first time and then found out he already had a boyfriend).

And his grandparents! I can see now where Brad gets his charm. When I was first introduced to Nana and Papa, they welcomed me into the family and started relating to me like I was their grandson! They both insisted I call them Nana and Papa and I got immediately invited to visit them in their home in a couple of weeks. They live about an hours drive outside Boston and I've been promised (according to Papa), "the best home-cooked meal you'll ever taste!" Papa said he still believes Nana put some kind of aphrodisiac in the first meal she cooked for him because he feel immediately in love with her at that point! And Nana was laughing her head off, denying it was something she put in the food. I mean, she looked him in the eyes and said she knew it was her "sexy beauty" (totally her words!!) that did the trick! It totally blew me away! I mean, I hadn't heard grandparents talk like this... ever! It was so sweet.

As we were getting ready to leave after the fireworks, Nana told me she couldn't have picked "a more adorable boyfriend" for Brad. Nana told me that when Brad had told them he was gay about three years ago, she made him promise she would have to give her seal of approval when he got a boyfriend. They playfully scolded Brad for not bringing me immediately to them for their approval after we met over a year ago. But, Nana let him off the hook when she said something like, "Well, I guess you knew we'd approve anyway." Then I actually got my cheek playfully pinched!

What a day! What a boyfriend! What a family! I'm still floating on cloud nine!
Oh, and maybe later I'll tell about the "private fireworks" that happened that night when we got home! Two firework displays in one day?? "Whew" is all I gotta say!

Tribute to My Dad

HAPPY FATHER'S DAY to anyone who is a father or has a father (or remembers a father)!

Matty wanted me to put up something today about my dad since my dad and I have been through a lot this year. He said he wanted to put something up later in the week about his dad.

I wrote some things to my dad in a letter and thought I'd share a little of it here. Matt got tears when he read the entire letter I wrote my dad. A lot of the entire letter is very personal, but I selected this little bit to share:

Dad,

So, it goes without saying that we've not always had the best relationship with each other.

Not meaning any disrespect, but, you've not been a perfect Dad. I can accept that. I don't think there's ever been one in the history of the world. Plus I don't think I could stand you -- or anyone -- being perfect!

I don't want to list all the ways you've failed me or all the ways I've failed you. We've done enough talking over the past year in the family counseling we've been doing. I think what's important now is that we focus on what we have now and what we're trying to have with each other.

I want to say how proud I am of all the hard work you've put into dealing with the alcohol business. So, you have ONE YEAR and 4 DAYS of sobriety! I'm glad you did this for our family 'cause I don't think we would have survived if you hadn't. But even more than that, I'm proud of you doing this for yourself. I mean, it all comes down to that, doesn't it? Doing it for yourself. Then Mom gets to have a husband who's really there; and the two of us kids get to have a Dad who's really there.

I have two Best Memories of you over this past year:

1. Remember when you took me to that soccer game back in April or May and then you took me out for ice cream afterwards? You have absolutely no idea how special I felt being with you. Just me and you. And, without me bringing it up, you brought up my being gay. And you told me you had no problem with it, even, you said, "the girly-boy" part! You were so sweet that night and I know I'll never forget it. And I could tell it was hard for you to talk about your feelings. But just that short comment made you a giant in my eyes. I'd been wanting you to accept me for so long. We've still got work to do, but I absolutely know we can do it now.

2. Remember when you met Matt for the first time? Yeah, I was totally scared that it might be hard for you 'cause it would be a step toward really seeing me as gay. I knew you wouldn't be rude or anything, but I was hoping you would really like him. I mean, at that time, you and I hadn't done a lot of work on our relationship and you were still early on in being sober. When I introduced him to you, you shook his hand and told him you were glad to meet him. I could tell there was some reservation going on with you, but I appreciated how decent you were. Now, it seems like you and him are like best friends! You're always asking me how he's doing and when he's coming over. It's funny, but sometimes it's kinda annoying. Maybe 'cause I wish me and you had been like that all along. It really and truly means the world to me that you said we make a "cute" couple (you saying this! imagine that!!) and then just recently you said you were proud of the two of us and thought what we had was very rare and special. I'm beginning to believe that what I have with you now is a very rare and special thing!

So, Happy Father's Day. I love you.

....Me pushing the mower :) - How many calories does this burn again?....

.... Hubby manning the rake - "How did I get corralled into this again?"....

....And our Supervisor - diligently checking out work.....

....................And more of our back yard.................

.... Hubby, Ima (Mummy) and Super Kitty ....
.

My Dad and His Girly-Boy Son

I've always wanted a good relationship with my dad. For me, however, it's always been an on-again, off-again sort of thing. It seems like we're now doing some serious work to hopefully repair things for good. At least I hope so.

It's funny. There's this one memory I have going all the way back to when I was about 6 or 7 years old. Me and some of the neighborhood kids were outside running around like kids do. I also remember a lot of chaos was going on. You know, nobody was in charge and we were just all over the place having fun. I seem to remember there was a soccer ball involved, like we were just kicking it around with no clear purpose in mind. We were all in a good mood, laughing, yelling, screaming, just being typical little kids.

I don't know how reliable every detail of my memory is, but I do remember making a lot of noise, giggling, flapping my arms all over the place, running around like a kid raised by the wolves!

I remember seeing my dad leave the house heading for the car. He was probably on his way to run an errand or something. I like to think he was watching me for a second and just enjoying seeing his only son playing and having a good time. At least that's the memory I wish was true.

What I remember as clear as anything in my childhood is him yelling at me, "Brad, stop running around like a girl!" I also remember it suddenly getting very quiet. All the other kids seemed to stop in their tracks and were looking at me, then at my dad, then back at me. My dad got in the car and left. After a few more seconds of total silence, there was some snickering and the other kids were making fun of me. You know how kids can be. There was this chant, "Brad's a little girl! Brad's a little girl!" Even the girls were joining in.

I honestly don't remember what happened after that. One thing is absolutely sure in my mind, though. Somehow I fully understood what he meant. In the space of like three seconds I go from being a girl to a boy. I stop giggling. I straighten my body. I stop having fun. I don't know what to do next. I just wanted the chanting to stop. What did my dad see that I didn't see? All I knew was that he was my dad and I trusted him.

We never talked about what happened. I was totally afraid to bring it up. I mean, I was just 6 or 7 at the time. How do you talk about something like that with your dad? Especially if you're a little afraid of him? I was always waiting for him to bring it up again -- kinda hoping he would but also terrified that he might. I mean, I was hoping he would apologize for what he said and say he was just in a bad mood or something. That he really didn't mean to hurt my feelings, especially in front of my friends. But, then I was also afraid if he brought it up he might lecture me about how bad I was for "being a girl," and how disappointed he was that his only son didn't seem to know how to act like a boy.

Since he never brought it back up, I figured he was probably right. Maybe there was something really wrong with me that I was "acting like a girl." Maybe there was nothing more to say about it. End of discussion. Case closed.

I think that was when I first started feeling totally different from everybody else. Even though I didn't know the word for it then, I believe that was the beginning of some kind of depression. All I knew at the time was that what he said made me feel so sad and ashamed. And there was nobody to talk to about it. What I decided to do was to watch the other boys and try to act like them. Looking back on it now, I think I started dying inside. I was so confused and and didn't know how to be what my dad wanted me to be. I wanted him to love me more than anything.

I think he wanted to like and accept me, but it came at the cost of stopping all that "girly" stuff. I tried a few times to toughen up and be what I thought he wanted me to be. He seemed to like me better that way. But did I want to give up playing dolls with my girl friends? And what about the thrill I got when some of the girls showed me how to apply makeup? None of it made any sense to me.

Fast forward to my early teenage years. My dad started drinking more than usual. I know he and my mom were arguing more. It scared the hell out of me. I worried they were going to divorce and I didn't even want to think about how my world would collapse after that. I was totally convinced I was the cause. I knew at some level that he felt all of us were a total disappointment to him. But, I felt I was more responsible for everything. I mean, I kept going back to that incident when I first disappointed him by "acting like a girl."

His drinking got gradually worse. He never, ever got physically abusive. But when he was drunk, he would say horrible things. I had come out as gay to them when I was 15. Maybe that was a mistake. I mean my mom and sister totally accepted it. My dad just looked disgusted and called me his "faggot son." He never said anything like that when he was sober. He actually was a decent dad and did normal stuff with me, like talk to me about school, how I loved playing soccer, etc. He even use to come to some of my soccer games and appeared proud of me. But then when he was drunk, it was some other person inside my dad's body.

I don't want to go into all the details here for personal reasons, but the end result was that he decided to stop drinking. He started going to some A.A. meetings, which I know was hard for him to do. He had a few slips but it didn't seem like he was going back to his old ways where he became verbally abusive. He actually went back to his meetings and got what they call a "sponsor," which, from what I can tell is like some kind of guide or somebody you could call when you feel like drinking and get encouragement and support.

He's been totally sober now for almost a whole year! June 15th to be exact. During this past year, he and I have been doing a lot of talking about our relationship -- one-on-one! How cool is that? We've also been to see this family counselor, another thing I knew would be hard for my dad. Tell you the truth, it was hard for all of us, including me. And you know what? This counselor is totally cool and smart and honest and blunt and, most important of all, caring. I can feel it. I totally trust her.

She eventually pressed the issue of how everybody dealt with my being gay. And my dad talked about his feelings about his relationship with me -- his feelings, for God's sake! Not his bullshit feelings, but his honest-to-God feelings of being sorry for causing so much pain to me. I have to be honest and say it was hard to believe him at first. Was he just saying this to get the counselor off his back? Well, as they say, the proof is in the pudding. I've gotten to the point where I trust what he says when he tells me he is truly sorry for the verbal abuse and not being there for me.

Last week he took me to see this soccer game a friend was playing in. Afterwards he took me out for ice cream. Just me and him. Without any prompting from me, he brought up the gay thing. He told me he was totally cool with it. I just grinned and said, "Even the girly-boy part of it?" He smiled, lowered his head, then raised it and looked me directly in my eyes. All he said was, "I'm cool with the girly-boy part, Brad." Then, wonder of wonders, he just added, "You're my son. And you know what that means? I love you. All of you. Period. End of discussion."

We both got teary and then he asked how me and Matt were doing. Well, that got on a happy subject. He actually asked all kinds of questions about Matt. As we were walking back to the car to go back home, he put his arm around my shoulder and just said, "Matt deserves somebody like you."

So, I'm learning a lot about love and forgiveness. And guess what? My dad's proud of me! I think this is going to work. I have to believe that. I mean, that's what "hope" is about, right? Hope and love.

Meeting Matt's Family

In his post yesterday, Matt recalled some of the wonderful memories he had about the beginning months of our relationship. One memory I have occurred about two months into our dating and is very special to me, not only because it involved meeting Matt's whole family, but because I began to seriously be convinced that I was in love with him. I knew my feelings were strong already but for some reason it sorta clinched the deal for me. Matt and I didn't use the "L" word at that time, but I know I was thinking about it.

Matt has this incredible relationship with his mom, his dad and his two brothers. Matt had been telling them about me from the time we first met and his mom told him to invite me over for dinner so they could all meet me. A date was set for a Saturday night and I found out later that both his brothers made a decision to bail on plans they already had so they could be there! Imagine that! Matt told me that was a huge deal for his brothers because they were hugely independent and rarely changed their plans for anybody.

As the time got closer, I was starting to get more nervous. For some insecure reason I started thinking about how I could win them over. Matt had never had a boyfriend before and I was thinking all eyes were going to be on me, so I better make a good impression. Matt reassured me that I didn't have to prove anything to them. "Just be yourself. They're gonna love you." Yeah, sure. Easy for him to say!

When Matt and his mom opened the door, I had some cut flowers for his mom. His mom didn't wait for Matt to introduce me. She just had this huge smile on her face and said, "Well, you must be Brad. Oh, and look at the flowers! That's so sweet. They'll look perfect on the table. Come on in and meet everybody." Matt was taking all this in and grinning from ear to ear. He kissed me, ushered me in and closed the door.

His mom realized she hadn't introduced herself and apologized. For some reason I was expecting something more formal, but she leaned in and gave me a sweet kiss on the cheek! For some reason I knew everything was going to be alright. I could see where Matty got his charm!

His dad came in the room, introduced himself and said how happy he was to meet me. Then his two brothers came in (one is 2 years younger and the other is 2 years older than Matt) and I met them. His younger brother immediately said he heard I liked soccer and started asking me questions about my school team, what position I played, etc. His older brother smiled and kinda slowed things down. He just said, "Whoa, everybody. Let's just go in the den and get some snacks and something to drink." Big brother to the rescue!

After about 30 minutes I felt like I had been a part of the family forever and was returning home after a long absence. It's funny but I don't know who I hit it off with better. After some snacks, him mom let me come in the kitchen to help her with some last minute dinner things. I had already mentioned that I loved to cook, so she said it was nice to have a man in the house who wasn't afraid of the kitchen. Matt, his dad and brothers let out a huge howl. "Awwwww, that's not fair!" It was great fun. Matt just winked at me.

During dinner, Matt just sat back, grinning most of the time, while everybody asked me questions and began telling me stories about Matt. It was clear that I had stepped into this incredibly close family. I mean, it seemed like they were so comfortable and easy with each other. Pretty soon I no longer felt like a guest. It was like they were treating me like a family member.

After dinner, his younger brother took me to his bedroom where he showed me some trophies he won for soccer. We talked a little while and realized we liked some of the same music and movies.

His older brother got out some baby pictures of Matt and sorta took me through his childhood. It was so clear and obvious his older brother loved Matt. We both laughed and I think bonded over enjoying some pictures of Matt making these ridiculous funny faces when he was a kid. He was already a ham and a show-off when the camera was around! Some things never change as you get older, do they Matty? :)

His dad was a great joker! He was so kind and had this subtle -- and sometimes not so subtle -- sense of humor. For example, as I was getting ready to go, he said something like, "Well, Brad. Any boyfriend of Matt's is a friend of mine! You're always welcome here, but, well, how can I say this? Hmmmm, I am going to have to ask you to empty your pockets before you leave. Just for security sake. I know you'll understand." He was saying all this with a completely serious face. I think my eyes darted between him and Matt and then his dad just said, "Well, maybe I can make an exception this one time, but I better not hear of any familiar jewelry being pawned in the next month or so!" Then he let out this huge laugh and gave me a bear hug!

When I left, every single one of them said I was to consider myself welcome in the home anytime. His dad said he hoped I didn't think Matt came from a crazy family. I felt so comfortable by this point that I just looked at everybody and said (with the same straight face his dad had given me earlier) that I knew of a good psychiatrist I could refer them to. Well, you would have thought I had said the funniest thing ever uttered by another human being. Did dad didn't miss a beat and said, "Well, Brad, since you seem to have found something redeeming about Matt, you are going to join the family in any therapy!" I swear to God I didn't want to leave.

Matt followed me out to my car. Before I even got to the car door I realized I was crying. I turned to Matt to give him a hug and kiss and realized he was crying too. He looked right into my eyes and all he said was, "You are so amazing. I actually think they like you more than they like me." Well, we just hugged and held onto each other for a while.

He called me later that night and told me everything they all said about me. After just two months of dating, I went to sleep that night with the "L" word on my mind. Was it possible that I was in love with him? All I remember before falling asleep was that I had a huge smile on my face.

horney paper storms