Memoirs Of A Gay Son
Chapter 1 The Early Years
My dad took us out of the car and had us sit at the table. He went over to the car and opened the door for the woman. She walked over to us and introduced herself as Diana. From that moment on, I felt an instant connection to her. I knew in my heart that I had found a really good friend. After we were done eating, my dad took the other boys down to the creek to talk; they were a little shyer. So, Diana and I went up near the little waterfall. As we waded through the water talking, splashing and just having an overall great time, we hear blood curdling screams coming from my father’s and brother’s direction. We look over and see them running out of the water screaming, “SNAKE!” When Diana and I got over there to see what the matter was, we saw the snake they were running from. It was about 2 foot long and as big around as a pencil. We laughed so hard all the way back to the car. This is my first memory of Diana. As everyone will come to find out she is a very important part of my life and played a major role in shaping who I am as a person. I think this fact always bothered my mother, but I wish she wouldn’t take it so personal. My mom, in the early stages of my childhood, was a single mother. She had to work tow and even sometimes three jobs just to make sure everything stayed afloat. Not only that, but both my brothers are special needs. They both have been diagnosed with neurological disorders that delayed some social interaction. Sure my mom would hire babysitters, but in the early and mid-90’s not many babysitters where educated on how to watch special needs children. At a very young age, I started taking on a lot of responsibility when I was with my mother. When we were at my dad’s, there was always an adult home. This gave me the opportunity to be a kid and not have to worry so much about responsibility. That is exactly what I needed. I needed to have fun and be a kid. Now, it wasn’t my mother’s fault that I was lacking that when we stayed with her. She was doing the best she could to raise her family. When I was younger, I use to blame her for that. I would just like to take the time and say that I am truly sorry for blaming her for our chaotic life. Looking back now, I know that it wasn’t her fault. But I go off tangent. My next memory is a few months later. Dad took us to go meet Diana’s parents. At the time, Erma, Diana’s mother, had her pizza shop. Erma was a very unique character. She is around five foot tall and has a very deep trucker’s voice. She had a mouth at times that would match a trucker as well. The loving nick names she gave me were Little Snot, which developed into Little Shit, which eventually became Little Fucker. I remember making a Pepperoni Pizza with her that day. I had never met anybody as bold as her before, but I felt nothing but unconditional love from Erma.