Thank You, Jeff
I know that there has got to be a reason for everything, and the way we come to love one another can be a painful journey. Where it will take us, there is no way of knowing, but when it brings us to the heart, then no matter how tragic the circumstance, when we allow ourselves to be surprised by the noble actions of others, our capacity for love bursts open like a flower.
—– Original Message —–
From: “Jeff L”
To: margaret
Sent: Sunday, March 28, 2004 9:27 PM
Subject: Your Mother and Father
Dear Margaret,
I just read your blog about your mother and father and his reaction to your mother’s illness, and it touched me. Ten years ago I graduated from college and went back to Iowa from the Colorado Institute of Art. My mother and I had always been close, and that had never changed, but my father was emotionally distant and basically did what he wanted to do. He never mistreated us or abused us, or anything of the like, but there was also no real relationship between us, because, although unspoken in my family at the time, I was gay.
I lived at home and worked for a couple more years, and things went on much as they always had. I stayed in the basement, and my dad was in bed by 7pm each night to get up for work at 3 am. Then, in 1995, something changed. My mom started to slur her words and stumble as though she had been drinking. We all thought she was drinking, because she had a stressful job, and was in debt with credit cards that my father had no idea about. But, like my sexuality and any other ‘problems,’ it wasn’t spoken of. Until it got so bad we couldn’t ignore it.
It turned out that my mom was not drinking. She had a disease called olivoponticerebellular ataxia. It’s a disease that in short, dissolves your cerebellum and steals your motor skills. Dudley Moore died of something very similar. She began a slow decline that forced her to retire from her job, become an invalid and die within 6 years. Out of all the pain and misery and yes, resentment my family felt, something wonderful happened. My father, whom I had pretty much disliked for years, became someone else. The man who would spend his evenings deer hunting and duck hunting and not coming home until maybe an hour before bedtime, the man who ignored his family quite a bit, became a loving, attentive husband. He spent the last five years of my mom’s life getting reacquainted with his oldest son and daughter, and not just my brother, with whom he had always been close.
My mom, whose name was also Margaret, died on January 19, 2000. Since then, my father and I have forged a relationship that, while not perfect, has become something I never thought I would have. A loving, cordial relationship. We have things in common I never imagined. He is still selfish about things, he is still set in his ways, but seeing how he cared for my mother forced me to look at him with new eyes. I hope that you and your father come to the same understanding, and I wish you much future happiness with your mother as well. I feel like I know her from your routines and your blog.
I’d also like to thank you for inspiring me to start my own blog, and to be more of an activist and to stand up for what I feel are important issues. I encourage everyone I meet to vote, and hopefully we can vote Darth Bush out of office. Keep fighting the good fight!
Sincerely,
Jeff Lassiter
skyywalkerr.blogdrive.com