December 1995

The closet- such a dark and damp discomfort. Pari departs on Sunday. When will we meet again?

Mom and I walked through an aromatic lot searching for our very own Christmas tree. Rows and rows of them. Strings of soft white lights hung all around. It was like walking through a dream. Children playing hide and seek. Mom and I laughing. Mom has borrowed money from me. I enjoy having helped. It makes me feel useful.

Spent yesterday with Mom-Suzie, her sister Clara, and Jackie. We went to the Assyrian church and visited with friends in Modesto. It was a very nice time. My sexuality didn't seem to matter and I felt a lot of love for my family.
I was rummaging through mom's dresser drawers looking for her cigarettes when I happened upon a book that was geared toward parents of gays and lesbians. I went numb for a few seconds it seemed, my head filled with so many questions. Where had mom gotten the book? Or had someone given it to her? Who? Has she actually talked to someone she knows about me? I took the book out of the drawer and looked through it. It wasn't very good. It was predictable and trite. But had mom herself found the courage to buy it? I'm speechless and grateful that she's trying. I don't feel the need to approach her and discuss this with her. I'm leaving it alone. Giving her time, space. But I see her differently. I like it. I am moved.? Page five was dog-eared.

Life follows wherever I go.