Tag Archives: family

Letting Go (Again)

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Early this morning I walked my son into the Delta Terminal so he could board the first of two flights today; first stop Newark International Airport, ultimate destination, Ben Gurion, Tel Aviv, Israel.

This young man, this last and youngest child of mine, has come so far. In a quarter of a century, he has traveled through this journey called life with more courage, tenacity, conviction, and insight than anyone I know. 

It was just yesterday that I roamed the halls of the elementary school daily looking for the misplaced backpack, the lost jacket, the unseen lunchbox. It was just yesterday that I took him for his first job interview and stood by while the owner asked the obligatory questions, offered an application, and then the job, all within a span of 15 minutes. It was just yesterday when we toured college campuses, when we moved him into the dorm, when we attended graduation, and when he moved out, no longer a student, but a young adult ready to tackle the world.

As coined by Gretchen Rubin, “the days are long, but the years are short.” And boy are they.

A few short years ago, my barely “out” transgender eighth grader left the safety of our nest to travel to Israel for the first time. There were packing lists provided by the school that included certain required clothing items for the boys and for the girls. The school did not know that my son was trans which resulted in a few hard conversations about what he would need to pack and ultimately wear in certain areas of the country. He did not want to wear any skirts or dresses, let alone long, at or below the knee garb when praying at the Western Wall (the Kotel). 

At one point on the trip we did get a call. Feeling safe, our son told one of his classmates that he was transgender and the chain of events that ensued, while painful, unexpected, and full of anxiety, demonstrated a level of caring and kindness that I wasn’t prepared for.

The student called home; the parent called the school; the school called the chaperones; the chaperones called us. The tears flowed. I was not prepared to have this conversation with anyone, least of all one of our son’s teachers. However, the conversation was incredibly respectful and full of empathy. In fact, I couldn’t have scripted it better. In the end, the teacher assured us that they were supportive and wanted to be a support system when needed. They understood the nuances of the situation and only wanted our child to be safe and to enjoy the trip, one that the entire class had been learning about and preparing for throughout the school year.

Fast forward eleven years (almost to the day) and he’s off again to the land of milk and honey. This time, he is a man traveling without a mask. He can move through the country as an adult male without worry about his clothing selections. He can be his authentic self with a group of young adults as eager as he is to explore, experience, and engage with the land, the culture, and the people he loves so very much.

Yes. The days are long. While he’s arrived at the first destination, we now wait for news later this afternoon that he’s boarding the flight to Israel and then we’ll hold our collective breaths until the plane touches down in the holy land.

In a blink he’s gone from the forgetful, impulsive, messy child to a proud, confident, motivated adult. The years are short, for sure.

Every Day Transitions

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This morning I read two stories on Facebook that brought sadness; each touched me in a very different way.

Part One

tony trupiano

Tony Trupiano

Tony Trupiano, a lifelong learner and a staunch ally to the LGBT community (especially the T), passed away. I’d only know Tony a few years. He ran a radio show, The Voice of the People, when we met via phone.

He invited me to come on the show to tell my story – a story about parenting a trans boy. Then, he invited me to become a regular guest. Before every show, I worried about what I might talk about, what was new in my world and what was topical relative to the transgender community. Though often times I landed on my topic at the last minute, Tony made it effortless. He was such a great interviewer and host. I always felt exhilarated at the end of the segment and couldn’t believe how quickly our time together passed. One day he called to let me know the show was ending. It wasn’t financially lucrative and he could no longer sustain the effort required to keep it going. I felt sad for him. He loved the role of radio talk show host. Several times we made plans for him to come to brunch or to meet for a glass of wine. Each time, there were circumstances out of his control that prevented him from keeping the plans. Then, he confided in me that he had a number of personal transitions in his life that he was dealing with. Time passed. Another day on Facebook and I see a notification that he is gravely ill and battling for his life. There was a gofundme to help with all of his expenses. I sent my good wishes, always hoping for a bright light to shine on him. From what I could gather, he was winning his fight and on the mend, though weak, physically and emotionally, from all he’d endured.

This morning I read that he passed away. I felt so sad for this man whom I never actually met face to face. This man who touched my life and lifted me up by sharing my story and helping to educate community about what it meant to be transgender. Tony, rest in peace, my friend. You touched many with your beautiful soul.

Part Two

The Toth family. In a instant all four family members were gone. Vacationing in Colorado. Their van didn’t have a chance against the black ice, low visibility and multi-ton semi in their path. I didn’t know them. Tom and Christina loved being parents.

“She (Christina) was so gracious and so effective without having to be condescending. Everybody loved her. Tom was just hilarious. He was like a giant Muppet. He was a Grateful Dead guy and he loved music.”

They were on a family vacation. They fully expected to return home and continue with their every day lives. Tom back to his job at Chrysler, Christina to her law practice, the girls to school. I didn’t know them. But, I know with certainty, that never in their wildest imagination could they have anticipated or predicted the outcome of this break from the everyday. I feel so sad for what could have been. I grieve for anyone who knew this beautiful family. I am shaken by the mere fragility of our every day lives.

These everyday transitions are all around us. When my youngest child told be that she was a he, I had to make a choice. Immediately. I knew what he was pronouncing was real and true and a piece of what made him tick. This was about him. I either went along for the ride or missed the boat. I couldn’t imagine not supporting him. I knew I had to find ways to understand and educate myself so I could be the parent the needed. Navigating this life transition has not always been easy, but I can assure you, it was the the only path. My son is growing into the person he was meant to be and together, we are exploring everyday transitions.

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Familiar yet Foreign

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You know that feeling when you see someone and just can’t quite place who they are or where you know them from? Aside from the fact that I am convinced my memory is completely shot, I’ve been having this feeling a lot lately.

Hunter not OliviaEvery so often I come across a photo of Olivia. Flat-ironed, much anticipated, long hair, smiling face…I am stopped in my tracks. I know this child. I’ve held her, soothed her, fed her, played with her, cheered her on, taught her to ride a bike, scolded her, disciplined her, and loved her. It’s been awhile since we’ve spent time together. So familiar, yet so foreign.

When I look at Hunter, I see my kid. I see a young teen boy who is quick-witted, full of personality and sarcasm and on the journey of a lifetime. What I don’t see is a boy who used to be a girl; a son formerly known as a daughter. It’s funny, really. Hunter would probably disagree but it’s almost as if they are two different people. We parented Olivia for a time being and now we get to continue on the parenthood path with Hunter. It’s sort of like being on a roller coaster that suddenly changes tracks. For a split second you aren’t sure you’re going to make it; then, the car “rights” itself and you breathe a sign of relief.

I am so saddened by the recent tragedy in New Jersey where a young trans man took his life by jumping in front of a train moving at a speed of 120 miles per hour. His parents who must be in unimaginable pain are quoted as saying, “She was such a good girl.” ARE YOU KIDDING ME? Do they not understand that referring to their transgender, FTM child with female pronouns was not the way to show support? I am not blaming the Moscatel’s for Riley’s death but they did not do what they needed to do.

It took me a long time to feel comfortable using male pronouns with Hunter; initially, I just avoided using them altogether. The familiar was much safer than the unknown. But, I pushed past any issues and discomfort I may have had so I could give my son what he needed. I reminded him that I had a daughter for 14 years; changing vocabulary overnight would be difficult.

My family is my priority. Having a healthy, happy family unit is, above all else, what I want out of life. So, does my heart ache once in awhile for Olivia? Do I get pangs of longing for a child that I’m missing? YES and YES. It’s hard to put into words what I feel on a daily basis. I do look at the pictures from time to time and recall what was once so familiar. Mostly, though, I look at Hunter and see a teenager who is paving the way for others. I see my child, so courageous of late, sometimes I feel as if I hardly know him. We are getting better acquainted with each passing day and navigating a complicated journey together.