I was going to write a “Mother’s Day” post and maybe share
some stories from the trenches of motherhood as I remember them from my son’s
younger days. Then I sent flowers to a friend of mine’s mother and that got me
to thinking about her son. Why is that so important? My friend is deceased, so
I sent them in his honor.
He died last year in March, probably of natural causes. I
didn’t go to his funeral because his family forgot that I had my name legally
changed from “Mayone (my own)” to “Wynter.” I learned about his death when I
realized that I hadn’t heard from him in a while. He usually called me every
couple of months or so and we’d talk about whatever was on our minds. When I
realized that I hadn’t heard from him, I tried to call him. When I got a
recording telling me his number had been disconnected, I tried again. When I
got the same recording after double checking the number, I really got worried.
I looked him up on Facebook, but his page was gone. Thankfully, I knew he had a
brother, so I looked for his page. That’s where I found pictures of my friend’s
grave.
So, now it’s over a year later and Mother’s Day has just
happened. Why not do something about Mother’s Day? Well, sending flowers to his
mother in his honor got me to thinking about just how much I missed him.
Never again will I hear him say things like, “Lord willing
and the creeks don’t rise,” or the way he’d say, “Great” in that slow,
sarcastic baritone he had. I’m realizing more and more that I miss him more
than I ever thought I would. Never again will I hear him tell me how his mother
had hoped someday we’d marry. While I loved him as a brother, I was never going
to be romantically interested in him. Largely because he was younger than me.
We met in junior high as we were both in a special education
class. I don’t know why he was in there, but for me it was about learning how
to deal with the mean kids in school without creating more problems for myself.
I had no idea back then that he’d become one of my best friends.
At our class Christmas party, I believe we drew names. I
don’t remember whose name I received, but I do remember that he got mine. He
gave me a comb his mother had made with blue and white silk flowers on it along
with a bottle of Sweet Honesty perfume. I wore that comb to death and kept the
flowers from it for years after it had fallen apart.
We went to the same high school and would see each other in
the halls. I always looked forward to our meetings. Then I graduated high school,
his family moved to another state, and we lost touch. He did write and I meant
to write back, but never got around to it.
Fast forward about 20 years and a website called
“Classmates” becomes available. I signed up, then started looking for him. I’d
forgotten that he was two years behind me, so I kept looking in my graduating
class. Lol Then one day I remembered that he’d been two years younger. The
moment I checked his graduating class, I found him. That’s when I paid the fees
for membership so I could contact him.
I immediately e-mail him. I was thrilled when I heard back.
We started e-mailing back and forth, then pretty soon he said he had something
to tell me and he wasn’t sure how I’d feel about it. He was gay. I e-mailed
back and told him that in John 3:16 “God so loved the world . . .” If God said
that, who was I to differ? From then on, we kept in touch via e-mail.
He later told me that he’d found me, but was saving up the
money for the fee. I simply had the money first.
It turned out he was still living in Oregon. Several weeks
later, I was able to drive down to see him. I spent the weekend at a local
B&B and we had a good time hanging out. We went to his favorite bar and
just generally caught up in person.
That was a wonderful weekend, then several weeks later I
took my then young son down to meet him and some other friends of mine. We
spend the first day with Nathan and the plan was to spend the next day with my
friends on the coast. The second day I woke up with a nasty headache and no
pain reliever. I’d forgotten it at home. I managed to get through breakfast,
then find a store to get some pain reliever. I had my son buckled in his car
seat and told him that mommy didn’t feel good and needed a nap before we went
anywhere else. He said, “Okay.”
Just as I settled in to the driver’s seat, my cell phone
rang. It was Nathan telling me he’d had an urge to call me. When I told him
what was going on with me, he immediately invited me over. Told me I could lay
in his bed and he and my son would watch movies. I thanked him, then drove to
his place. He lived on the second floor of a barn in a small apartment. The
moment I got to the top of his stairs, I saw a couch of some sort and collapsed
on it. I felt him cover me with a blanket, then I was out. When I woke up, I
saw my son and Nathan sitting in his chairs watching a Disney animated movie,
Tarzan, I think.
When I woke up, we got on our way, but I would not have had
a good day had it not been for Nathan.
If memory serves, the next time I saw him, he and his
parents had come to Washington for a short vacation. I invited him and his
parents to dinner. While dinner was cooking, my son, Nathan, and I went across
the street to an old school playground so my son could run off some energy
while we visited. They were camping, so I believe I visited them at the
campsite while they were here.
Anyway, from then on, we kept in touch, usually by phone,
but occasionally by e-mail. We’d call each other although he called me far more
than I called him. Every time I called him, I felt like I caught him at a bad
time. I think it helped that anytime I was in Oregon, I made it a point to see
him.
I knew he had serious health issues. He’d told me at one
point that his doctor had told him that his lungs were so bad, it was if he was
80 years old and had smoked a pack of cigarettes a day since birth. That made
my head and heart ache. Especially since he was younger than me.
The last time my roommate and I were in Oregon, we visited
Nathan at his apartment. While we were
there we prayed for him; that he would be completely healed. After we returned
home, I continued to pray for his healing. So, it came as a shock to learn that
he’d died. I really had thought that God would heal him, but I also know God
has reasons for not doing so.
Anyway, all this goes to say that Nathan had a wonderful
mom. I don’t know her well, but I do know that she’s a good cook, she makes
cute pot holders, and enjoys doing cross stitch items as gifts for her extended
family. Most importantly though, she accepted my friend as he was. Even when he
came out as gay. She even helped him choose his alter ego’s name. If more
parents were like that, this world would be a better place.
So, as the month of May ends, I’d like to salute all the Mom’s
out there doing their best for their children.
P.S. I didn’t think to write this before I posted, but
Nathan did walk away from the gay life a couple of years before his death. He
got rid of everything related to it and lived the rest of his life as the
wonderful man that he was.
