We’re  probably watching CSI:Miami or a marathon of Criminal Minds or Storage Wars cause they stopped running the Miami marathon a few weeks ago. You’ll complain cause you hated that they cancelled the marathon of your favorite show.

I’ll have just washed the dishes and am laying at the foot of your bed. No doctors appointments. No nurse to visit. Just us and the tv.

After the umpteenth rerun you’ll notice I’m nervous. You could always read me like a book.

Your raspy voice will call to me, breaking my inner musings. I say it’s nothing and head into the kitchen to make your lunch.  

You and Spanky will follow.  He was always acting like a weird little shadow.

We’ll settle into the living room now. Criminal Minds droning on and on and you’ll watch me from your recliner while I’m sprawled out on the couch. 

I’ll try to ignore it, going and cleaning the bathroom to occupy my time and calm my nerves.

After I’ve cleaned everything I can clean and as yet another rerun starts to play I’ll finally sit back down. 

A heavy sigh that leaves my lips will draw your attention from an awkward quip Spencer says and I’ll start to tear up because I’m always extremely emotional about these kinds of things. 

You’ll ask what’s the matter and reluctantly I’ll say what’s been my mind all day,

“I’m trans.” I’ll bow my head though I feel your eyes watching me. Calm to my emotional storm brewing. 

You’ll probably laugh cause I’m being silly. 

“I know.” Because I knew you knew. I would light up when someone would call me your grandson. Smile when someone would say ‘mistake’ me for a guy. You noticed. You always noticed.

I would just nod. Why would I expect anything less?

“You’re no different now than you were before. You’re still my grand-baby. I still love you.” 

You would have known before my mom, before my dad and brothers and sisters, and cousins and friends. Because yours and my girlfriend’s reaction would have mattered the most. HURT the most.

We’ll continue to watch our marathons like this never happened. Like nothing’s changed. 

Except something did. You’ll call me Lee and when I decide my name is Andrew you’ll call me that too. 

You’ll continue to support me and encourage me.

Imagining is all I have left. I miss you and I miss your guidance. I miss your support and definitely miss your love.

I wish I would have listened to your stories more. Just listened a little more. A little longer

Rest in paradise grandma, continue to watch over me and my family.

Sunrise: Nov 3, 1943 Sunset: Jan 6, 2015

Thanksgiving 2013

Premonitions 1

Premonitions 1

My chest, flat and smooth, not a blemish in sight, scars of an incision underneath both breast.

My children and my wife were calling on me but I stopped to stare in the mirror.

My reflection, happy, calm, a permanent smile must be on my face, if the lines were evident. Something I don’t do.

I couldn’t feel the fog of dysphoria clouding my mind, only a sense of serenity.

My fingers twitch with excitement as I traced the scar. My battle scar; a battle I finally won. It was a moment I contemplated and wished for.

The skin tingled, sensitive to the feather like touch. Tears prickle my eyes. I felt it all.

Joy, insurmountable joy.

The funny thing is, I knew it was a dream. But… I also knew I would be there one day.

I feel it on the tips on my fingers that one day I’ll be there. And I’m okay with knowing.

Being a writer I learned you have to dream and plan, before you can make reality.

When I woke, I was running my finger  where my scars would one day be. And I smiled, turned to my fiancée and spooned.

Sometimes dreams are premonitions just waiting to happen.

And I know this is something I will have déjà vu of in the future.