There Was a Time, But Times Change

There was a time in my life when I would wake up everyday feeling like the world was crushing me under its thumb. I felt like with every step I took I was being pulled into the quicksand of life. During these times of my life, I would pray to God, everyday, to take me home, to crush me under a rock, or run me over with a car. I would beg for everything to be over with. I couldn't stand being. With every breath I breathed, I felt my lungs burn inside of me. Every time I looked at myself, I would sneer in hateful derision. I was nothing and I felt that that nothingness needed to be snuffed out. And there were times, when God didn't answer me, I tried to take the life and snuff it out for myself. I wanted my light to stop shining.

There were times in my life, from the time I was thirteen years old to barely six months ago, that life seemed to be burdened with my existence in it. But something has happened to me. I am not sure, as I have written many times before, what has happened. The abyss no longer craves the blood that flows through me and the darkness is quelled by the light that shines in my song, my voice, and in the words that bleed from my veins. I have changed, though probably not in the way that my family has thought the change would come.

Years ago, I was talking to my mother about life and the challenges that plagued me. I was talking about the darkness that surrounded me. (I know the pain that I felt was felt by my mom; she and I have always been so close. The closeness must stem from the bond that she and I have shared since my conception. I would call my mom one of my best friends and I think she would agree with me.) During our conversation, she told me of an experience she had while she was praying. She said she was praying for me and praying that I would be okay; she said she was praying that I would find joy in life. And she said she received an answer to her prayer. She said she heard that I would be okay; she knew that I would be happy and find joy because of the answer to her prayer.

She and I, however, have different interpretations of the answer to her prayer. She knows that the answer means that I will come back to the church, marry in the temple, and find joy in raising a family. While that is a very beautiful interpretation of the answer to her prayer, I have told her on different occasions that that answer doesn't mean I will no longer be gay. I have told her that my joy in life may reside in something other than how she and my dad have found their joy in love and marriage in the temple.

No matter the true answer to the interpretation of the answer to her prayer, I believe I have started to walk the path that will lead me to be "okay." I know the path I walk on is taking me to joy and love and peace. God is answering my mom's prayer. Life is taking me down a path that I don't know the end to; of course, I don't know that there is an end, but life has me walking down this path and my head is held high. The days of wanting God to crush me under His thumb feel years behind me. The times, when I wished for life to take the energy and the body it had given me and snuff out the light in me, seem to be just figments of illusion.

These days, I walk with my candle burning bright for the world to see. A smile comes easily to my face. A laugh leaps to my throat for all to hear. A song resides in my breast and sings for all to hear. A spark of life dances in my eyes like the twinkling light of the stars at night for all to witness. These days, though I know death is coming, I don't rush headlong into the fray hoping for death to take me. These days laughter is what I crave. Love is what I need. And life is the most exciting and brilliant adventure that I find myself racing with to a brighter everyday. Namaste.

Nothing to Fear in Death

Is it weird that I do not fear Death? I have considered this oddity many times and find it different or abnormal from the beliefs of family, friends, and strangers. I haven't known what to think, but as I consider what is to come, I think, "What need is there to fear or dread?"

My sweet Grammy passed on last June. However, before she passed on, my mom, my mom's sister--Aunt Phyllis--, and I had a night of watching my Grammy suffer in pain. We held her hand as she laid in her medical bed Mom and Dad had set up upstairs. We told her we loved her. I was blessed to try to comfort her by singing. She always loved to hear my voice and this was my pleasure to sing to her; the tears, however, made it hard to get the words out.

As we gathered around her, I struggled to see her suffering, so I leaned in to her and, holding her hand, said, "Grammy-love, you don't need to suffer. We have had you long enough. It's time for Pappy to have you back. Stop fighting on this side. Let go." One of the sweetest ladies I know, looked at me and, through the pain, managed to say, "I love you."

For most of that night, the week previous, and the day she died, she continually said, "I love you." She couldn't go without it being understood that she loved us. The very next day, after we sat with her and I told her to stop fighting, the beautiful woman who I was blessed to call my Grammy passed on.

The night that I said what I did, after we were able to get Grammy to sleep, my mom asked me how I was able to say the things I said to Grammy. I told her that there was nothing to fear in Death. I said that if we truly believe in a just and merciful God, we have nothing to fear in Death. She still didn't understand how I said what I did and, sometimes, I wonder how I said the things I said.

The Truth is that I truly believe in a just and merciful God. I know that God will judge me on my heart not just my deeds. And I know that death is not final; Death is the beginning of the next journey. Death will inevitably come, so why fear death when I can celebrate life.

I used to often contemplate death. In fact, at one point in my life, I tried to take that life because I felt so alone. I often considered death to be the only solution that I had available to me because like was handing me so many cards; I didn't know how to play with the ones I was dealt. A common thought that ran through my mind was, "If I'm going to go to Hell for killing myself and I'm going to go to Hell for being gay, I might as well get it over with." It is sad to repeat those thoughts, but I think it is necessary to say because I want people to understand that what is being taught and being said to others, can make life a very difficult thing to continue living.

Because of what I was taught in church, I saw myself as an abomination and a mistake. Thanks to Leviticus and Romans, in the Bible, I thought that God hated me, that he made a mistake in me, and that I was going to burn in Hell. Because I was in so much emotional turmoil, I knew that I needed to kill myself and start suffering early because I felt that God was going to me punish me anyway.

The thought that I considered death daily is very sad and disheartening. I know that there is so much to live for, but at the time, I was stuck in an up and down cycle of despair with  brief reprieves of happiness. Now that I've found the solution for me and the strength within, part of which I think comes from the energy and love my Grammy gives me everyday, I am not haunted by the constant preoccupation with death and I know that I am not a mistake; the god I believe in loves me.

This preoccupation with death, in my past, has given me a lack of fear of the end of life. My acquaintance and fraternization with death has allowed me to see the joys inherent in life and has allowed me to see that, though death is but a journey, I don't need to fear its advent. I know that whatever is next, whether paradise or reincarnation, I know that my energy, my soul, will seek out and find my loved ones again and peace will find me. God, or whatever derivation of His title you decide to use, will judge with mercy and with love. And that is an encouraging thought. Namaste.

My Eulogy

I've found it. I know what I want people (family or friends, it doesn't matter) to read at my funeral for my eulogy. I know it sounds morbid for a thirty-one year old to even be contemplating death and a funeral, well, really, a cremation and the services, but a man has to be prepared for the unexpected or the possible unfortunate day when the darkness wins and my body loses to my mind to take the life inside. I'm not saying suicide should ever be considered, but I'd be lying if I said, when the darkness has risen to its strongest and the abyss is ready to swallow me whole, I have never considered killing myself. To lie about never being consumed by the darkness and considering death would be stupid; the darkness has been with me a long time. I have been fighting it off since I was a teenager. So, I prepare for the inevitable end.

My eulogy is from Willa Cather's My Antonia, when Mr. Shimerda fights homesickness and loses his battle with the dark, he takes his own life with a shotgun shot to his head in the barn. After all the preparations are made, (the coffin is built; the frozen ground is broken and dug up; and Mr. Shimerda is lowered into the ground) grandfather is asked to pray for Mr. Shimerda.

Grandfather prays, "'Oh, great and just God, no man among us knows what the sleeper knows, nor is it for us to judge what lies between him and Thee.' He prayed that if any man there had been remiss toward the stranger come to a far country, God would forgive him and soften his heart...[He] asked God to smooth the way before [those left behind] and to 'incline the hearts of men to deal justly with [them].' In closing, he said we were leaving [him] at 'Thy judgement seat, which is also Thy mercy seat."'

I want to acknowledge the just God that I know is merciful and will see my heart along with my actions and will judge me mercifully. So, whether by my own hand, the hand of another, or nature takes me, I want whomever prepares my services to eulogize my life with this great quote. And then God take my soul.