He sent me a starstruck postcard from London exclaiming, “Guess what? You know Jimmy Somerville from Erasure? I met him at a club here!!” (Never mind that Somerville was actually in Bronski Beat, another of Dad’s favorites.) But to actually let me in-to sit on that blue blanket, look me in the eye and tell me he was gay-was something he couldn’t do.
It was probably one of the hardest conversations he’d had in his 38 years. I’m not angry about it I just wish it had gone differently.
I wish I could have known that some part of him accepted-and was proud of-who he was.
