I spent most of yesterday evening at the hospital. My 8 year old son wanted to visit Mr. Jason after his back surgery. I actually had a double motive in the visit. James, the 8 year old, had left his new recorder at his Dad's house last weekend. He needed this for school today so we needed to pick it up.
Our visit was fairly uneventful. James had picked out an azalea for Jason and wanted to give him a Reese's Cup. He was pretty sure that a Reese's Cup would make any hospital stay more pleasant. Considering my own personal love for peanut butter, I certainly did not argue the point. We had a nice chat and James gave us a recorder concert. I knew it was time to leave when we began discussing where all of the tubes went. Jason was on IV narcotics every 12 minutes, so he proceeded to answer. The IV lines were not a huge concern, but I really did not want to know where the tubes that went under the covers connected.
The whole visit left me thinking about the huge differences we have experienced in the past year. Just 12 months ago, neither of the boys knew their Dad is gay. We had managed to make it for 5 years after the divorce without telling them. For the first 4 years of it, Todd and I both agreed that it was best. The last year of it, I was the only one that felt that way. I had worried about the consequences. I searched and searched for any literature on telling kids this type of thing. There really is very little written about it. I had hoped for some statistics that showed me something like 99.9% of children that were told this type of thing, came out just great. As you can guess, no such statistic existed. So being a true Southern woman, I just ignored it. I knew it wouldn't go away, but I was in no hurry to bring it to the front burner.
Then in April of 2010, the whole situation came to a head. Todd had met a man and had carried on a long distance relationship. The two had gotten much closer and had decided for Jason to move to Atlanta and live with Todd. As many ways as I tried to figure this out, there was just no way to cover up the fact a grown man was living with their Dad. Todd and I discussed this at length and never came close to an agreement.
Then on your average Tuesday, everything finally changed. Todd had picked up our oldest child after school. Ray was 12 at the time. The two of them went to his house to spend the evening playing Wii. During the evening, Todd said he finally got up the courage to discuss it. Todd was not sure how to handle this but knew he was ready to talk. In his excitement to share his authentic self, he shared a little too much all at once. Todd told Ray that he was gay and that he had known it for some time. He then asked a gay friend to speak to Ray about it. This friend went on to explain that he had known he was gay since he was 5 years old. The two of them took Ray to dinner in Mid-town and discussed it a little more before softball practice. Todd had been playing in a gay softball league and in his new found openness, he introduced Ray to the team. All of this took place in one short evening.
I am not sure if it was the pink softball uniforms, all gay restaurant, or simply the information that gave Ray trouble. What I do know is that the next day I opened up the whole thing for questions. I simply told Ray that I would be glad to answer anything. Unfortunately, he had no questions, but he did have a request. He did not want to see his Dad any more at his house. I later asked Todd what he was thinking, and he simply said he got a little excited about the information. He really wanted to share his authentic life with his son and accidentally shared a little too much.
For roughly six months, Todd visited the kids at my house. He attended their events and came over to our house every week or two. It was the first time since the divorce that the kids just did not go to their Dad's house. None of us had told James why we were seeing Daddy differently, and thankfully he did not ask. We just fell into the new routine.
This lasted for six months before we had another major moment.
No comments:
Post a Comment