Date: Thu, 20 Oct 2005 00:23:24 -0700 (PDT)
From: John R Ohler <lightseeker19@yahoo.com>
Subject: Returning to Tate Chapter 3

Hey all here is the third installment of my story.
Sorry it took so long. I hope that you like it. Once
again all this is an original work by myself and may
not be copied without my permission. No matter how
anyone may sound like someone living or dead, they are
completely fictitious and only live in the mind of the
writer. Thanks for reading and hope to have the next
one up before too long.
John

Returning to Tate:
Chapter 3
The Truth in Fault

     The walk from the hospital was probably
harder then the drive had been earlier in the
morning. Once again I felt very alone and this
time I did not even have a car to escape in. I
think it hurt me more that my Mom had accused me
of wanting to hurt my brother. It was a feeling
that deep down I knew I should just ignore, but
it was hard to do that. I think it was because
even though we had not talked for four years and
I did not feel like I was part of the family,
there was still a part of me that did want to
feel apart of that. That part still remembered a
loving supportive mother.
     I think to put things in perspective some
     things need
to be said about my mother. My mother was a very
protective woman about her children when we were
growing up. She saw them as perfect and
deserving the best. She was not one of those
mothers that let their kids get away with
anything; no she stayed on top of us without
really being smothering. When we left the house
she had to know where we were and we had to be
back at a reasonable hour, usually ten. After
school, she was always at home waiting for us.
Her first words were always how was our day and
what homework did we have to do today. If we had
trouble with something in school, she always
tried to help us through the problem or got our
father to do that. If either Patrick or I had
chosen a favorite parent, it was her.
     Now this is not to say she was perfect. No
she was far from that. She was human like
everyone else. When it came to my father she was
very meek. What he said went in our house. If we
screwed up in sports and father yelled at us,
mother would push us to try harder. She would
always remind us how hard our father worked to
put food on the table and how good a man he was.
Mom also worked to try to have the perfect
family image. There was to be no talk of
dysfunction in our family ever. If we did
something wrong in public, Dad might yell at us,
but Mom was far worse with the subtle comments
of how ashamed she was of us. For the most part
she was a decent mom to my brother and I.
     When the incident happened four years ago
and my family learned of me being gay, my mother
did not say much. She pretty much let Dad do it
all. She would avoid me and not even look at me.
I knew that she cried a lot about it all. My
Father would use that to hurt me when he was
yelling at me. I heard her more then once tell
my sister at the time that she was sure it was
just a phase and that I was just doing it for
attention. She could not image having a son that
was less then perfect and ruining the family
image, but even with all of that I believed that
she was still my mother.
     During the intervening four years, we never
talked. While I focused all of my hatred and
anger at Father, I had developed an image of my
Mother as also being a victim. I knew that while
I had upset her and turned her world upside
down, that deep down she still loved me like
before she found out. I could not image having
an argument with my Mom like I had before this
day. My mind always showed every argument to be
with my father. Now though that image was
shattered.
     It was obvious too me that my mother blamed
me for every hardship the family was in. It
hurt. It hurt all the more because I felt maybe
she was right. I had been a shitty son. Many
times since realizing I was gay, I have asked
why I had to be different. There was a part of
me that just wanted to act like I wasn't. That
too was a painful thought.
It is ironic that by being raised by my parents
I had always been told that I should be honest
and never tell a lie and that same honesty was
one of the things that kept me so damn
conflicted.
     On this walk I began to realize that all
those feelings of pain had not been healed by
going to Burke College the last two years. No
those feelings had still been there just as
strong. No I had just hidden them like putting a
rug over a dirty floor. It did not fix the
problem but instead put it off. That had been
all I was doing. I had acted like my troubles
and my life here at Tate had not existed. I
never realized until now that irregardless of
what I felt at Burke, I had not been whole and
could not be whole. For once in my life I had to
come to grips with everything and not run away.
     I must have walked for a good thirty
minutes because I realized I was walking by
MacArthur Park. This was a large park that was
toward the center of town by the river. On the
north side of the park was the baseball diamonds
that my brother and I used to play at. Growing
up Mrs. Cross would bring us here every Sunday
in the summer for a picnic and to play on the
slides and swings. Once we learned to ride bikes
we ended up here almost every day while we were
in grad school. The whole kid world seemed to
revolve around this park. By the looks of all
the kids running around, that still had not
changed.
     I stopped in front of the lake in the park.
I walked to the edge by a cloister of trees that
Rick and I used to climb all the time. I sat
down by one of the trees and looked at all the
ducks that were swimming around the lake. As I
took my position many of the ducks shift towards
my spot in hopes that I might have bread for
them. I used to love this part of the park. I
loved it because it was always so peaceful here
and this was a spot that I could always relax.
     When I was little Mrs. Cross would always
take us here to feed the ducks. My Father never
would have done that. He called that a waste of
good bread. I spent so much time at the baseball
diamond that you would think that might have
been the spot I loved, but no. That was the
location my father spent many times yelling at
Patrick and I. There were good times there like
the time we won the league championship, but
those times were not the memories that were the
ones I thought about. No the thoughts I remember
are the ones that haunt me. They were the
memories of when we did not win or did not win
well enough for my father sake. Here at the lake
with the ducks though, my Father had never
poisoned this sight. It was here that whenever I
got down or depressed that I came. The other
nice thing about this spot is that in those
times you needed to hide away from the world,
the trees and bushes could let you vanish. I
felt like that today.
  I am not sure how long I sat there in thought
                     when I
heard a crack of branches of someone moving
through the bushes behind me. I started to get
up to move away when Patrick stepped through the
bushes. "How did I know that I would find you
here Bro?" Patrick plopped down beside me.
     "I guess I needed some place to hide away
today. To be honest I had sort of forgotten
about this spot until I was walking by," I
paused to stare at the ducks. "So how is Elaine?
I am sure she has nothing good to say about me
right now."
    "Not really, but she has been a bitch for
                    awhile,"
Patrick put his arm on my shoulder. "Besides she
knows better then to get in it with me about
you. Mom and her are always walking on eggshells
around me on that subject. I
think they are afraid that I might take a queue
from you and get the hell out. She spent the
trip back to the house just saying how I should
not worry about Dad and that God will pull him
through. The only comment she said was that you
had not right to worry me about it all and to
focus on school. She started to tell me to stay
away from you, but she caught herself. I think
she saw I was getting red in the face. So once
we got home, I stormed upstairs to my room and
climbed out of the window."
     "I am sorry that I got you into trouble and
you have had to take shit because of me," I
continued to stare out at the lake.
     "Hey don't say that. I am glad you came
back. To be honest I need you right now. Mom is
a wreck and of course Elaine is in complete
denial.  I can't talk to anyone right now and I
need too. Plus I really did need to see Dad. I
don't care what Elaine says, I think you are
right, he wouldn't want to be on those damn
machines. I remember something in the news about
the girl in Florida that was brain dead. I
cannot imagine anyone wanting to watch someone
go through that, but I guess here we are."
I sighed. "Yeah, to be honest I am not surprised
                       at
Elaine wanting that, but I figured that Mom
wouldn't want it."
     "Well you have to understand, while Elaine
and Mom have always been close, when you left
they became hyper close. She started coming over
everyday. I thought for awhile she was even
going to get Mom to join her church, but Mom
never was that religious and of course Dad would
never spend Sundays in a church. Mom doing
something that Dad wouldn't do just would never
happen. So of course when Dad had his stroke,
Elaine was the first person that Mom called. All
the big decisions were always made by Dad, so
without him saying something, Mom has just let
Elaine call the shots. Plus I don't think Mom
could let go even if she wanted too."
"No I don't think she could. She has devoted her
                      life
to him. He was never wrong in her eyes. She
never even said a word when he hit me. I
remember grabbing my stuff and running out the
door, she never said a word."
     "Yeah that is for sure," Patrick paused.
"When Dad hit me, she told me how it was my
fault he had lost his temper. I had provoked him
by defending you. I am sorry I never told you. I
just didn't want you to worry."
I looked to Patrick and could see him staring at
                       the
ground. "Listen Pat, you have nothing to be
sorry for. I always knew that was what happened
and I am sorry that you got sucked into all my
shit. You are a better brother then I."
     Patrick looked up with some anger in his
voice, "Don't give me that shit. Fuck how the
hell did you think I grew up so well. It was not
because of Dad, it was my big brother. When I
had a crappy game and Dad yelled, what did you
do when we got back but told me the good things
I did and said you were proud of me. There is a
reason that every time I did well in a game or
something good happened that I ran to you first
to tell you. You were the person I looked up
too, and hell I still do."
     I have to say that with the intensity he
was telling me this and how embarrassing it
sounded to me for him to tell me how much he
looked up to me I couldn't do anything but break
out with a stupid grin. "God I appreciate that,
I really do. I have so missed you. God I wish I
had been born straight so this shit would not
have happened."
     "Hey don't say that shit either," He
elbowed me in the ribs. "I don't want to hear
you feel regret about being gay. While it was
weird initially off to think of you being gay,
I wouldn't want you to be a different person.
That is a part of you. How would you like me to
start acting like I was gay.I could you know. I
could pick up guys right and left." Patrick
cracked a mischievous grin.
   I laughed. "Nah I wouldn't want that if for
                     nothing
else then to not have competition."
 "Thank god, I am not sure I could get it up for
                        a
guy.at least sober."
     For the next few minutes we cracked jabs
back and forth. It was like I had not been gone
the last two years. I felt some remorse for
missing the last two years of Patrick's life.
What a fool I had been just on that account. As
we joked I realized that Patrick did want to
talk about something more serious. He had wanted
to cheer me up. It did not take a detective to
realize what the subject that he needed to talk
about.
 "So Pat," I shifted to a more sober tone. "What
happened last night? Do you want to talk about
it."
     He paused for a moment and took his turn at
looking at the lake. "Yeah I guess I do. It has
been running through my head over and over. It
is like when the news catches something horrible
and they keep repeating it on television. I
could not even sleep last night."
     "What happened?"
     Patrick took a deep breath and began to
tell the story. "Dad had come home from work a
little after five last night and we were all
going out to celebrate. He and Mom were both
excited about it." I noticed that he overlooked
saying what the celebration was, but I let it
slide. "Mom was real excited to go out, for the
last couple of years we really had not been out
much. I think Dad has had a tough time at work
for awhile."
     "Anyway we were all going out to the
Steakhouse," That was Dads favorite restaurant
and one of the fanciest in town. "We had not
been there since, well since before you left the
house. We all dressed up and Mom was really
excited to wear her red dress again. She said
that it had been far too long since she had
brought it out. Mom and Dad were both in such a
good mood. I cannot remember the last time they
were joking back and forth to each other."
     "Well we got the restaurant and everything
was so good for once. Dad and Mom both seemed to
just let go for the night. When the waiter came
around Dad kept bragging about me and he even
ordered a bottle of wine for Mom and him. You
know he never was that loose with money, but
last night there were no worries at the cost."
     Patrick paused for a moment and then
continued. "Then he got up and started to walk
out. As he got up he started to stumble and
grabbed his forehead. Mom tried to help him sit
down, but he pushed her back and said he didn't
need her help. Then he just collapsed on the
floor and Mom started screaming. I could do
nothing but just watch." Patrick started to cry.
 I held him, but I knew that there was more that
                       he
needed to tell. "Patrick it is ok, but what have
you not told me. There is more isn't there. What
were you celebrating?"
     He cried for a little bit more. I have to
admit I also was crying a little bit. He gave me
the most hurt look that I never imaged Patrick
could have. "I won.I got a scholarship to UCLA
to play football."
     "That is good news. Just because they were
celebrating your hard work, it was not your
fault. That did not cause Dads stroke."
     "No, that is not, but what I said is the
reason for it. I told him I was not going to go
to UCLA and that I had
already turned it down earlier in the day. I
didn't have the balls to do it until dinner was
almost over. I told him.I told him I wanted to
go to Burke College." He started to cry again.
     For a moment I didn't know what to say. All
I could do was keep repeating to Patrick, "It is
not your fault." That much I knew for sure. Mom
was right, it was my fault. It hit me like a ton
of bricks. Since last night Patrick had been
blaming himself, but if it had not been for me
running off to Burke College or being gay then
Dad would not have had the stroke. At that
thought I just broke down in tears.
     "I don't know what to say except it is not
your fault," I began to speak after a few
minutes of mutual crying. "If it was anyone's
then it is back to me. I was the cause of all
his stress and even when I was not here I still
was. I shouldn't have ran to Burke and hid from
the world and more importantly to hide from you.
So if you are going to blame someone, you have
to blame me."
   "No that is not true!" Patrick practically
                    yelled at
me. "You did what you had to do. Dad didn't give
you a choice. He drove you there. I could have
gone to UCLA."
     "Yeah but you probably would of if I had
     been around.
You would not have wanted to come to Burke
     because of me." "I did choose Burke because
     you were there," Patrick
sighed and looked to the lake. "I declined UCLA
not because of that, but because I don't want to
play football. To be honest the last four years
I have played the sports just for him,
especially the last two years. When you were
gone there was no one to be around that made it
fun. I did well only because I didn't want to
take shit for playing badly. You were the only
reason it was fun. I would have quit if he would
not have killed me for that. He couldn't stand a
quitter."
We looked at each other and both shared a moment
                       of
clarity. "No he couldn't. Damn him for making us
feel this guilt. Why could he just not love his
kids for who they were and not what they should
be."
     "I don't know," Patrick whispered.
     The both of us sat there quietly by the
lake for a good hour in silence. I know we both
felt like shit, but in a way we both felt at
least a little better. Our mutually guilt seemed
to make them both null and void. I guess it is
like two negative. If anything it pissed me off
more that Dad had made both of us feel this
guilty.
     The silence was broken by the growling of
Patrick's stomach. We both laughed at that. "Ok,
you are hungry and so am I. It must be after
six. Let's go back to Ricks. Mrs. Cross wants to
take me out for food, and I know she would take
you out too."
     Patrick gave me a bemused look. "Take us
out or cook us food? She always was the best
cook. I miss getting the free food when you
lived there."
     I laughed again. "Sorry to say we are going
out, but I agree with you. At least I will be
getting some of that food soon. I'll tell you
about it."
  "Like hell you will, I will be there for that
                      meal
too!"
     Patrick and I got up and started our walk
back to Ricks. It was about a thirty minute walk
from the park to there, but it did not feel like
it was that long. I have to say that both of us
felt better after talking. We had shared are
grief and the weight of feeling responsible and
everything did not seem as heavy anymore. It is
not to say that either of us had gotten rid of
it all, but at least we had shared it and had
become stronger by doing so. We had always been
a team growing up and once again we felt like a
team. It was another thing I had missed being
away.
 When we got to Ricks we caught him walking out
                     to his
car. Rick had gotten worried since it now was
closing on seven and he was going to start the
search. He started to question us about where we
had been but I just told him that there were
things that had to be worked out. It just had
taken longer to do, but nothing to worry about.
I could tell Rick wanted to know more, but he
did not push it. I never really kept secrets
from him, but sometimes I waited a bit to tell
him everything. He hated that, but he knew that
he would get it out of me eventually or at least
I hoped he did. Rick still was acting a little
aloft from me even though he put up the fa^Çade
that everything was cool.
     Mrs. Cross too was happy to see us come
into the house. She had gotten worried. I should
have called and let her know all was well. I had
gotten so used to being at Burke that I did not
think of anyone worrying about me being out.
Everyone always wants to be independent and not
worry about that, but you know the truth is I
sort of missed that. I apologized to Mrs. Cross
and also told her that there were things that I
had to work out, but it was all good now. She
did not push the issue. Mrs. Cross knew that if
it was important I would tell her in time and
she always let me have my privacy. She really
was an awesome woman.
   We went out to eat. It was the Olive Garden
                    tonight.
Italian food was always my favorite and of
course Mrs. Cross did not forget. Originally
going out with the Cross's I was always hesitant
to get anything that was too much, but I long
since gave up that. Mrs. Cross had always
instilled in me that they had too much money to
worry about such notions and so I just always
got what I liked now. My brother Patrick never
had that notion and ate all he could. He always
did have an appetite.
 The meal was excellent and I got to get caught
                      up in
all the comings and goings of the Cross family.
It seems that Mr. Cross had finally become a
partner at his firm. It meant that he was out of
the house more, but Mrs. Cross did not mind. She
knew that it had always been a goal of his and
that it was important to him. There was a pretty
good chance that one of his cases might even go
to the United States Supreme Court and that was
something no lawyer could pass up. Just
listening to her talk about it, I could hear the
pride and even a slight bit of envy. It was not
that Mrs. Cross was not good enough to do the
same, but to be honest her goals in law was more
community oriented and people driven. It gave
her the ability to have a career but still be
home for her son.
     When the dinner was over, we drove back to
the Cross house. Patrick had to head back home.
He figured that no one probably had noticed him
gone yet. Usually they would leave him alone if
he didn't answer the door, if they had even
knocked on it. He was a little worried that when
Mom got home that she might actually check on
him. If anything he did want to try to talk to
Mom and figure out what all was going on with
Dad. I told him that I would be around through
the weekend which just delighted Mrs. Cross.
     After Patrick left I told Mrs. Cross and
Rick that I had to go back to the hospital. Rick
offered to go with me and Mrs. Cross offered to
drive me, but I told them both this was
something I had to do alone. They seemed to
understand. I promised I would be back tonight
and like I told Patrick that I would at least
stay through the weekend.
     It was just about twenty minutes after nine
     that I
arrived back at the hospital for yet a third
time. The night was a clear one with a quarter
moon up in the air and a sky full of stars. It
always amazed me to just stare up at the
sky and think about the vastness of it. It was
something I had not done in awhile, at least not
since I was a great deal younger. It was during
those younger years that you think anything is
possible and that there is magic in the world.
Staring up in the sky as a kid you did not see
stars and the moon, you saw dreams and fantasy.
I missed those years. The drawback of growing up
is that those dreams and fantasies disappear as
you learn what everything really is. You also
grow to let dreams be replaced with bitterness
and regret.
  I came to realize that even at Burke, a place
                     where I
really thought I was happy, I was not. At Burke
I was not happy, but instead numb. I spent my
days there studying and working, but not living.
I had friends there, but none that were really
close. It just seemed that I kept everyone at
arms length. I know it was a pseudo protection
mechanism so that I would not be hurt again, but
I also think it was more. When I left Tate, I
left my life. I left everything that I knew and
with that all my dreams. I ceased to live on my
sixteenth birthday. As my world came collapsing
down, I chose to go down with the ship. That was
a mistake.
     The world I knew growing up may have
collapsed and sank, but there was more to life
then what happened. While my world sank, I did
not realize how many life preservers had been
thrown to me in the form of Rick, Patrick, the
Cross Family, my Grandmother, and even Mr.
Culpepper. I just refused to grab one. I chose
instead to bob in the waters of despair by
myself and hope that I would just sink. That
never happened. It was those life preservers
that I did not reach for that still kept me
afloat.
     I began to walk up to the hospital. Tonight
I realized I was going to have to face the
iceberg that hit my life. We all have demons,
most are just in are minds, but I had to face
the one demon that had scared me and made me
afraid to live life. He may not know that I am
there, but that was not important. There were
things I had to do, and it all started there,
just as I knew that he was the start of the road
that had lead me here.
 My mind may have been made up on what I needed
                     to do,
but I still wanted to build up more courage,
besides being still earlier then ten there was a
decent chance my Mother or sister might be
there. If there were two things that might cause
me to waver, it was those two and besides two
arguments in one day was more then enough for
me. I still felt I needed some strength and I
knew one person that seemed to be able to give
me some.
     "Hey how goes it?" I smiled at Eric at the
door of his room. He had been laying down
watching one of the like twenty CSI series that
seemed to be on now. It must have been an
exciting episode because he looked like he might
fall asleep. "You too tired to hang out?"
     "Oh hey Justin," Eric smiled at me and the
room seemed like it lit up. "No, no it is cool.
I am just so damn bored. All day today all I
have had to do is lay here and take naps off and
on. That seems to be the only way time goes by.
Come in and sit."
     "Damn, I wish I had your life. What I
couldn't do with a few hours of sleep. I feel
like I have been up forever."
     Eric laughed. "Yeah well it looks more
     glamorous then
it really is. I really just want to get the hell
out of here and get moving around. I am not used
to lounging around in bed.at least now without
someone else in it." Eric almost sounded like he
was hinting at something for me, but I knew that
I was just my imagination. Irregardless I had to
admit that it was a pleasant fantasy for me. "So
what have you been up too today to keep you up
if you are so tired?" Eric
brought me out of my daydreaming.
     "Oh.uh.not a whole lot," I slipped back
into reality. "Not a whole lot. All the normal
shit, hang with my brother, argue with my Mom,
visit with Rick and Mrs. Cross. You know the
normal thing." It was after I had said it that I
realized that he didn't know what was normal for
me. I had gotten so used to thinking of him
closer that I forgot how little he knew.
     "Arguing with you Mom?" The concern in his
voice was unmistakable. "Is there anything wrong
you want to talk about? I know that I offered
before but I know what it is like if there is
problems in the family."
I paused and looked at Eric for a minute. It was
                      hard
not to just blurt everything out and just talk
to him. Just staring into his one deep blue eye
that was not covered and I almost could not stop
myself from talking. Deep down I just felt like
he could make things better. I knew better
though, this would have been a lot to lay on a
friend that I had known forever, let alone
someone I had only met early this morning. There
was also the fear that I would lose that friend
before I really got to know him. I was not sure
why but I knew that if I was going to face my
demons I needed him on my side. Thus it was back
to the song and dance of avoiding talking about
it.
     "Nah it is all fine," I lied, well sort of,
I mean everything was fine at the moment. I felt
dirty though for not being completely honest
with him. I guess that was one of those damn
honesty things I had a problem with again. "We
just had a small argument. Everything will work
out. It has just been a stressful day for
everyone, but it will end well that I know. On a
different subject though, I guess I will be
staying here through the weekend instead of
going back to Burke tonight."
     Eric seemed to light up even more at that.
"Cool, I am outta here tomorrow morning. We have
to do something!" He blurted out excitedly. "I
mean if you want too," he calmed his voice down
a little and looked sheepishly at me.
"Yeah we do," Even if I did not want to hang out
                      with
him, which I did, in fact I felt like I wanted
to spend every waking hour with him, or actually
I guess every hour with him, I don't think I
could have ever said no to that face. "We should
do something to celebrate your freedom from the
hospital. So whatever you want to do, I am cool
with that."
     "Sweet," he grinned back to me. "I am not
sure that my Mom would be cool with me getting
out of the house so soon from the hospital, but
I could use some X-Box time. I don't know if you
have played much Halo, but I bet I could kick
your ass in it." Eric laughed.
     "We will see, we will see," I could not
help but laugh with him. "I have not played for
awhile but I used to be terror in that game."
     We talked till a little after eleven. Time
seemed to have no meaning in that room and I
noticed none of it go by. We joked about who
could beat who in Halo and shared some of our
war stories of Halo. Then we talked about a
couple of other games and about how the new Halo
sucked compared to the old. I had to admit that
it was nice for someone to agree with me about
that. My friends at Burke all thought that the
new one was better. Sure the boards were bigger,
but they just screwed up a lot of the parts of
the game that I liked.
     As I realized that it was getting late Eric
gave me his address. It was ironic but he lived
two blocks down from the Cross's. I joked about
that and Eric joked back that at least if he had
to sneak out of the house for awhile that he
knew where to go now. I gave him the Cross's
phone number and told him to feel free to leave
messages there for me. They would give it to me,
even if you left it on the machine. I then got
up to leave.
     Eric put his hand out and I shook it. His
hand was so soft and warm. It felt almost like
electricity to touch it. It was the best feeling
I think I had felt forever. I could be lost just
in the grasp of his hand. I didn't want to let
go, but I knew that I could not hold onto it
forever. I think I did hold onto it a bit longer
then I should have, but thankfully Eric didn't
seem to notice. As I walked at of the room I
felt great and I felt strong enough to do what I
had to do.
  I walked to ICU. As I got closer slowly that
                     strong
feeling of courage began to wane. Every step
became heavier and heavier. I passed the waiting
room and felt some relief that neither my Mom
nor Elaine was there, of course they might be in
the room. The dread in me seemed to grow more
and more. Still though I managed to keep my
resolve and stay on my course of action. It had
become a sort of pilgrimage to face my demon
that was my father. For the first time in a
couple of years I was afraid of being alone. I
wished that Eric was with me or Rick or Patrick.
Unfortunately I had to do this alone.
     I arrived at his room and walked in. There
was a split second of relief as I as realized no
one was in here, but that changed as I stared at
my father laying there in the bed. I felt like a
deer in headlights staring at him. The sounds of
the breathing machine and the beeping of the
machines taking his readings were the only noise
in the room. He now had two IV drips going into
his arm and to be honest even though the
machines said that he was alive, he looked dead.
I pitied him just laying there. I knew from just
looking at him that it was the end.
I took a few deep breaths and walked over to him
                       and
took the chair by his bed. Now that I was hear I
really was not sure what I was going to do.
Looking at him I could remember the man that I
did love when I was little. I could remember the
softer side of him. That though was the conflict
because I could still feel the wounds of what he
had done to me and what he had taken from me. I
wondered if he knew I was here or if he could
hear me. I guess that did not matter because
this was not for him, but for me.
     I cleared my throat and began. "Dad.I don't
know if you can hear me or not, but there are
some things I need to say to you. I knew that
this is the only way I could ever do this." I
paused trying to think what to say. "I know that
I was never the best son. I was not the winner
and obviously I was not the son you dreamed of
having, but I was your son. Yes, you had a fag
son, but you had no right to treat me like you
did. You know I loved.hell I do love you still.
I know that I can't pick my Father. You may have
been an asshole and arrogant bastard, but with
all your faults, you were my father. Why could
you never see me as your son?"
   My eyes started to water up. "Elaine maybe
                   right, and
maybe I will go to hell for being gay, but I
never had a choice. One thing you taught me
growing up was that the truth was important. You
always told Patrick and I never to lie. To be
honest I think it would have been the greater
sin to lie. I am who I am, I cannot be anything
more. Why was that not good enough?"
 I had begun to cry. "Growing up I always tried
                     to fit
your mold of a man. When you said I was not
doing enough to win, I tried harder, even when
it was too hard to keep trying. When I played
sports I would work at it until every muscle in
my body ached in pain just to get your love.
There
were times I practiced until I vomited. Most
children don't have to run after their fathers
for love, why the hell did I have to sprint?"
     I reached over and held my Fathers hand.
"You know even after the four years of my exile
from the family, I never stopped loving you. How
fucked up is that? Did you ever have any love
for the son that you hated? Did you ever think
about me or wonder how I was doing? Even though
I never admitted it, I know not a day went by
that I did not wonder how you and the family
were doing. You always told me in life to never
look back, well I guess that makes me more of a
loser."
     I stood up and wiped the tears from my
eyes. "For four years I have ran from you. You
and your shadow have made me run from everything
that I loved. Instead of the nurturing father
you should have been, you were one that was
slowly strangling me. You made me run from
myself and even run from life itself. I will not
go quietly into the night though. I will not
keep dying because of the memory of you. You may
be dying and while I do hate to see that, no
matter what you think, I am not going to keep
dying. In an ironic way, the same way your
stroke may have set you into a prison that death
will be your only outcome, it has set me free. I
am alive and like it or not I am and always will
be your son."
     My words had more conviction then I ever
     could imagine
them having while facing my father. "I am not
going to run from Tate or you anymore. I am
here. I am Justin Aaron Caldwell and I am your
gay son. I don't know if there is an afterlife,
but if there is I wonder if you will have to
face up for what you have done to me. You always
said that everyone had to face up to their
responsibilities, and I hope you have to too.
This is not my fault, it is yours."
 I got up and without looking back I walked out
                     of the
room and out to my car. As I stepped outside the
building I looked back up into the sky and for
the first time in a long time I saw some dreams
in those stars. I saw the wonder in the cosmos
again. I could breathe in life again. The winds
of despair had changed, for how long I did not
know, but at that moment I did not care. All I
knew was I had faced my demons and walked away
stronger.