After Steve, my ex, left me we sold our house. He moved in with a friend and I bought myself a townhome where I met Crystal. She and I moved into Brewery Creek on the same day. She’d been dumped by an ex who’d been having an affair with Crystal’s best friend. We were both aching.
Soon, however, she met Steve and I officiated at their wedding. Her best friend sang at the wedding; we were both fabulously reconciled with our exes. Next, Cole was born and then twins Ruby and Georgia. I became an active baby sitter and Uncle Chris.
As soon as the twins could talk in sentence if you referred to Ruby as a girl, she said she was a boy. Whenever it was time for party clothes, Georgia was always an orgy of pink and glitter; Ruby was never without pants and a tie.
A vivid memory was a party at the home of a great aunt of the girls. I went separately and arrived just after the family. The hosts had a rich resource of toys and sports equipment for their grandchild so Ruby and Georgia dove in on arrival and when I arrived I found Georgia dressed as a princess in pink. I found Ruby, tie on the ground, alone in the driveway playing tennis with the garage door.
They looked identical but were so different. It was easy to tell them apart by their behavior but impossible by their looks. I worshipped their mother who allowed them to make their own choices. She encouraged all her children to be individuals.
I don’t see them as much now that she lives way off the bus route in West Vancouver and I’ve been without a car. Also, my seizures and stuttering have made children my most challenging audience; their presence makes me particularly embarrassed by my affliction.
But yesterday I wrote to the family saying it was time to get together and so we are choosing a date.
But in her reply, she blessed me with the revelation that Ruby Jean had come out as transgender and in two days she begins high school as Ruben James. I can hardly wait to get my arms around her.
I’m as proud of her mother as I am of our James. The language she used to tell me reveals such compassionate acceptance. I weep every time I read it.
I have friends who’ve achieved great heights in their careers who are justly proud of their achievements. Crystal’s mothering puts her on par with them; I am a proud witness to her legacy.
|Cherry bark is so beautiful. Saw this on the way to|
the PNE in Vancouver's East End.
|This Pampas Grass was darker than most I see. Loved it.|
|Bacon. It's heartbreaking to know.|
They've the intelligence of border collies.