Alexandra… May 1, 1998 to April 8, 2012

When I say “Always,”

I mean “Forever”

I trust tomorrow as much as today

I’m not afraid to say “I love you,”

And I promise you I’ll never say

“Goodbye”

-Alan & Marilyn Bergman

Jeff and I laugh when remembering how we worried, or doubted Alex’s ability to thrive in NYC. City life suited Alex, the most beautiful girl in the world. We will never forget her.

Invisible…

I desperately wanted to be everyones idea of perfection.

But I finally had to stop…

Photo by Walter Kurtz

Gay doesn’t define who I am as a human being, but you take it away and Eddie wouldn’t exist. I couldn’t continue to be invisible to please others. It was time to love myself.

Because I Love You…

There were some girls who sat in my hairdresser’s chair that just exuded magic – you could feel the chemistry between us, even if I couldn’t explain where it came from.  It was as if I could do no wrong. Standing, watching their reflection, I could see my finished work shimmer in the mirror- whether it be cut, color or simply a blow-dry.  Sometimes just my skillful work with a pencil liner and a Q-tip would transform them. Line, smudge and always blend upwards, I would say. There were even those special occasions which called for all the above.  And now standing behind one such girl in my chair, I could tell things about her without her even saying a word. She might have been totally unaware how she had suddenly sat up very erect in my chair. As if she wanted the whole salon to be aware of how good she knew she looked. Maybe it was just the tilt of her head, or the surprise in her smile as our eyes met in the mirror.

She was one of those girls…

One of those girls you felt you’d known forever. During your very first conversation you would share personal secrets without any reservation.  And on this particular day, out of nowhere, while admiring my finished work and her reflection, our eyes met in the mirror. She smiled and told me how wonderful I was and that she prayed that someday I wouldn’t be gay anymore…

“Because I love you.”

It takes a second. So many years had passed and I was still to hear those words again. I nervously looked past her reflection in the mirror, now only seeing my own. There’s that little boy again. I don’t become angry or allow myself to become overwhelmed with sadness. Knowing that little boy is watching and listening I find a steady voice.

“I understand, for years I prayed for that as well.”

Over and over, I wanted it gone. There were moments in my past life where the high-pitched praying mixed with such desperation and self-hatred that I knew it had to stop. Because I had to love me. Gay doesn’t define who I am as a human being, but you take it away and Eddie wouldn’t exist.

She brought my tip back over to hand to me personally. She was one of those girls. She told me she would never say those words to me again and she’d see me for a haircut next month. I told her “That’s probably best. But I look forward seeing you.” And though I could hear her heels against the granite salon floor my eyes never left the reflection in the mirror. That little boy was looking so hopeful.

Love Letters… Jeff

Happy Anniversary…Twenty-Seven Years of Happiness…March 31st

People often ask what’s our secret? You both seem so ‘Happy Together’

When meeting Jeff I was just a few months shy of thirty. Feeling old, in the aftermath of what I believed were expectations people had placed on me. My quest for perfection continued; I felt trapped.

Jeff told me he didn’t expect perfection- as perfection was simply a myth.What he did expect was to share a happy life. That was something he believed was attainable for us together.

If I had made a list of the things I wanted to accomplish in my life, growing old with the person I loved was number 1 on that list. Sharing a committed life together makes us happy. Feeling a great sense of personal value-Jeff allowed me to be myself.

I can’t imagine a bigger feeling of accomplishment than knowing you’ve shared an authentic, happy life with the person you love. We’re family.

Today-twenty-seven years later- there is little time to feel old.

A shared life of happiness and marriage brought a renewed sense of adventure and freedom.

Photo by Jeff Elstone

With gratitude, respect and love…

Happy Anniversary Jeff…

Tossing Glitter… Upstate NYC

Spring Can Really Hang You Up The Most…

Spring this year has got me feeling
like a horse that never left the post

-Fran Landesman

Photo by Lynne Sable

Tossing Glitter…Twenty-Seven Years

Because your never too old to ‘Toss Glitter’

Because when it feels authentic you love forever…

Tossing Glitter… Twenty-Seven Years

See the pyramids along the Nile
Watch the sunrise on a tropic isle
Just remember darling all the while
You belong to me

-Sue Thompson

He who seeks beauty shall find it

Study Hall with my beautiful red-haired girl…

We’d been told to take any seat available. After this day it would then become our permanent station. Walking cautiously, deliberately avoiding any eye contact, I held my breath. We had reached that awkward moment where we were too old to be in the grade school and – at least in my case – still too young to face the pressures of sharing space with juniors and seniors. Winslow High School building seemed incredibly forbidding. Just watching it from the safety of our school bus parking lot was alarming. But now I was inside and making my way through the halls and into classrooms. My overwhelming sense of panic reached high alert.   It was impossible for me to gage how any of the other boys felt about this move. I simply wasn’t like them. Even my body had started to betray me. I seemed to have hair on my legs and pimples on my face way before anyone else. As I silently continued down the aisle, mid-morning sun cut across the room in a beautiful golden spotlight. And that’s when I saw her- hair down to the middle of her back the identical shade of my mom’s. Imagine my delight when I realized the desk directly behind her was empty. Slipping in as silently as possible, I was about to meet what would become my beautiful red-haired girl. Just like Charlie Brown.

Within seconds, she turned around in her seat, greeting me with huge bright eyes and an even bigger brighter smile. Oh my, was she beautiful!!! In this golden haze of sunlight she reminded me of the girls featured on the front of the Spree candy packaging. Each day I’d find myself looking forward to study hall. Her laughter brought such a welcoming ease. She’d wink while tossing her hair playfully over one shoulder.

I slowly let my guard down, to the point I hadn’t noticed Ralph. He had certainly noticed us. Ralph sat directly across from us, and without warning his words cut through the air like a knife. Why do you talk to girls like you’re one yourself? Are you a homo?  There was that word again. I didn’t know what it meant, but the way I’d heard it always told me it was the worst thing you could be. My beautiful red-haired girl giggled and rolled her eyes. I could feel the flush stinging my cheeks as I tried to ignore both Ralph and my own unease.

It took several days before I found the courage to ask mom “What’s a Homo?” I spoke that dreaded word barely above a whisper. I knew immediately I’d made a mistake when she called my father to join in on our conversation in the kitchen. Without warning that following Saturday morning my Father told me to go get in our truck. Time spent alone with my father never delivered a good outcome, and on this morning his anger was apparent. What could I possibly have done? I always stayed hidden out of sight as much as possible. As we drove up Main Street in Winslow I quickly realized my father had been doing some investigating on his own. And as we pulled across the street I recognized the guy on the ladder washing the windows of Synders department store. It was Ralph. I sat frozen watching my father cross the street. Though I couldn’t hear their conversation I wanted to tell Ralph how sorry I was – that I didn’t mean to tell on him or get him into a scene with my dad. Seconds later my father was back in the truck sitting stiffly behind the wheel. I could feel his rage and I knew this drill. I didn’t dare look at him.

Seconds later, I felt his flat hand across my ear and face. I knew better than to cry. Real men don’t cry, that was his mantra. Besides physical pain is temporary. My father’s disgust would take years to recover from. Such is the power of a parent’s rejection of their child.

Monday study hall would never be the same. I wanted to tell Ralph I was sorry, that underneath it all, none of this really had anything to do with him. But he wouldn’t look at me. And my beautiful red-haired girl looked up from her book only long enough to ask me “Why did you get Ralph in trouble?” I wanted to explain but couldn’t find the words. She never spoke to me again.

Tossing Glitter… Spring Can Really Hang You Up The Most

First day of spring in NYC didn’t seem so springlike but was magical in it’s own way…

Tossing Glitter… Midwestern Magic…First Day of Spring

Photo by Sherry Burnett

Be unique
Be original
Be awesome
Be Fabulous
But most of all be yourself as your amazing
-D.R. Marples

He who seeks beauty will find it…