Date: Sun, 19 Dec 1999 13:54:43 -0500
From: Charlie <charlieje@mindspring.com>
Subject: Andy 29 (Young-Friends) The FINAL chapter!

                   The Concert

Karen had told the boys that they should sleep in the morning of the
concert, but they were far too wired. By 7 AM they were all up, showered
and dressed, and were seated at the huge dining room in the Meoli
mansion. Each of them had particular problems they wanted to go over
with Karen, but on the whole there was a positive atmosphere that could
have come from only one source: Karen herself.

Andy was a little more apprehensive than the others. He hadn't had nearly
as much practice as his brothers, but it was more than that. He had a plan,
and he wasn't at all sure he could pull it off. But he had the determination
he'd learned from the Conners, so right or wrong, good or bad, he was
committed to seeing it through to the end. He bolted down his ample
breakfast, then enticed Christopher back upstairs with the pretext of
working on the duet they were supposed to do. Once there with the door
closed, he shared his plan and how he was counting on the little boy's help.

"Can ya do it?" Andy asked after he'd laid out his plan, "It's really
important to me, Christopher."
"Gee," the little boy answered, "I dunno. Why me anyway? I don't wanna
cause any trouble. Why not Paul?"
"It's gotta be you, Christopher! I explained that to you. Please help me.
This is something I gotta do, and you'll make it a lot easier."
"But Charlie... and Mom... what're they gonna say? What're they gonna
think? I love them, Andy. I don't wanna hurt them."
"That's why I need you to help me. I know they'll understand. You're
more like Charlie than Paul is, and you are so good at communicating!
Please help me? Please?"
"I want to Andy. I really want to help you, but I just don't know..."
"Ok," Andy said. He was a little disappointed, but he didn't want to push
it. "You think about it, and when the time comes just do what you think is
right. And whatever you do, I love you, lil brother. Just keep that in your
mind. I loved you the first time I saw you in that dorm in Italy, a scared
little boy thinking you were trying to get away from some sort of pervert. I
love you, Christopher, and I always will."

They spent most of the day at the arena, checking the lights, sound system,
and getting used to singing in the gigantic space with feedback speakers
pointed directly at them so they could hear themselves. Andy watched with
amazement as Karen took charge and directed the entire operation. Carlo
had hired two professional directors, but it didn't take them long to learn
that Karen, and not they, would make the final decisions about how the
whole thing would go down. These directors had thought themselves pretty
talented, but they bowed to a greater power and contented themselves with
providing the technical details that Karen simply didn't know, never having
been in this position before. For the millionth time it seemed, Andy was
struck with awe at the incredible family he'd found himself in, and the
invincible woman who led them all. Then he shuddered at how close he'd
come to throwing it all away. Then he thought again of his plan. Was he
crazy? Or was it the plan of the century?

Carlo had arranged for a fairly hearty lunch to be brought in, then a much
lighter dinner at about 6. Showtime was at 8 and no one wanted much to
eat, but Karen's primary responsibility was as a mother, and she insisted
that they all eat something. Fortunately they all liked salads, so that's what
they ate. As they finished their meal and were thinking of getting dressed, a
telegram arrived. It was from Guido saying that he would probably not get
there in time because of weather and delayed flights, then offered his
encouragement and good wishes.

Charlie took Christopher aside and hugged him, then kissed him. The little
boy was really disappointed and Charlie understood why. Christopher had
been destined to be Guido's son until his wife died suddenly, and he still
had a very deep feeling for the man. "He'll be here if he can be," Charlie
said, "And even if he doesn't get here, I know his spirit is already here."
"I know, Charlie. But I wanted him to know that I've not wasted all the
training he gave me. I wanted him to be proud of me so bad!"
"He's already proud of you, Christopher. We all are."

                *       *       *

The whole show was introduced by a local TV personality. He stood on
the stage, the only light in the entire arena being the single spotlight on him.
He told his audience that they were about to experience the best kept
secret of North Carolina. He gave a brief history of the Conner family, then
turned and said simply, "Do it, guys! Just like I've heard y'all do it before."

And do it they did! Wade was on drums, Karen stood at an array of five
keyboards; Andy was alternating between an amplified acoustic guitar and
an electric; Dennis held his new electric guitar. Charlie was on bass guitar,
occasionally switching to another keyboard as the need arose; Paul had an
electric guitar that he'd learned to play almost overnight. The music
training he and Christopher had received in Italy had been superb; so much
so that both boys seemed to be able to play just about any instrument with
very little instruction. But the unchallenged star of the show, the one who
stole the show and ran away with it, was little Christopher and his violin...
er... make that FIDDLE. After all this was a COUNTRY band.

When Christopher first appeared on stage to do a violin solo, he started a
routine that only he, Karen, and Wade knew about. Karen struck a chord,
and Christopher began to play. The violin is not a large instrument; but it
seemed huge when held by the little boy. But he demonstrated, as he began
to play, that he was unquestionably the master. He played the first few bars
of "Ave Maria" but was interrupted by Wade, who left his seat at his drums
and walked to the front of the stage. "Uhhh Christopher," he said in his
booming bass voice, "What're you doing?"
"I'm playing my violin solo, Signore Wade." Christopher answered. It took
a great deal of effort to keep from grinning, but somehow he managed.
"And doing it beautifully!" Wade answered, "But... there's one little
problem."
"Problem?" Christopher questioned in his most innocent voice, "You don't
like my playing?"
"I love your playing!" Wade answered, "But this is a country band! These
kind folks..." he gestured toward the audience, "They didn't come to hear
that kind of music. We're a country band! Do you know any country
songs, Christopher?"
"Like... Like what, Signore Wade?"
"Well," Wade said with a grin, "One of my favorite country fiddle songs is
'The Devil Went Down to Georgia.' Do you know that one?"
"I think so, sir. I've heard it and I think I can do it."
"Good. Let's try it, ok? I'll help you by doing the vocal."

The result drove the arena full of screaming fans absolutely wild, and
secured Christopher firmly in their hearts. Of course everyone who gave it
any thought at all knew it was a spoof, but they still loved that tiny figure
standing on the stage doing whatever he pleased with his violin and doing it
well. Christopher had learned the violin in Italy; he had heard fiddling in
North Carolina and applied his own skills to this new phenomenon. He had
completely charmed first Andy, then the rest of the Conner clan; now he
had charmed twenty thousand people in an arena the very same way, by
just being himself.

When Christopher again stepped out front on the stage for his first vocal
solo, he was totally unprepared for what happened. He wasn't exactly
nervous because he'd performed many times, even soloed many times, in
Italy. But when twenty thousand people saw that tiny boy appear in a
glittering blue cowboy suit complete with wide brimmed hat, hanging by its
draw string on his back, they erupted. They already knew him as an
incredible violinist, and now his crystal clear voice was showing that same
skill and confidence. The lights mesmerized him; the roar of the crowd
brought him to life. When he started to sing, his voice so high, so clear, so
pure that it defied description, the crowd went wild! They had come on a
holiday to hear an unknown quantity; they had warmed to Christopher and
they were determined to make that clear to him. The more he sang, the
noisier it got; the noisier it got, the louder, clearer, more powerful he got.
Charlie stood back, strumming his bass guitar as Christopher became more
and more animated, more into the job at hand, and he admired him. He'd
been afraid that he would envy him, having lost his own soprano voice
forever; but Christopher was so good, so incredibly talented, so in touch
with the audience that Charlie knew, and was thankful for the fact, that
even at his very best he wasn't even in the same league! "And he's my
brother!" Charlie said to himself.

The first half of the performance lasted an hour and twenty minutes. There
was a twenty minute break, then a tiring troupe of musicians were back on
stage for another hour. In their wildest dreams they never dared hope for
the reception they were getting. And then, far too soon for all of them, they
did their closing numbers. First Christopher sang "America The Beautiful,"
backed up by the entire group in harmony. He was followed by Paul who
sang the National Anthem by himself; no instruments, no vocal backup.
Both songs have some pretty high notes, but they were no match for two
very pumped-up boys. They loved their home, their country, even were
beginning to like themselves, and it all came out in their singing.

The entire group left their positions and formed a line on the stage, then
bowed to the audience. The applause kept coming. They bowed again. Still
more applause. Karen was getting ready to signal the hands backstage to
lower the curtain when Andy stepped forward, picked up a mike and raised
his hand in a gesture that requested silence. The applause stopped.
Everyone on the stage, especially Karen and Charlie, noticed that he was
trembling uncontrollably. No one had the slightest idea what he was up to,
but Karen had always encouraged everyone to be innovative. Well, this was
certainly innovation at its most extreme. Andy was scared to death!

"L-l-ladies and gentlemen," Andy began falteringly, "O-on behalf of my
family, I thank you for your overwhelming reception. We don't have an
encore prepared because we never dreamed we'd need one. But there is a
song I'd like to sing for you now. Over the past month I have done some
pretty terrible things, and some pretty stupid things. They tell me that's
normal when you're eighteen, but it sure doesn't feel normal to me. I hurt
my brother Charlie so much I don't know if he can ever forgive me, and I
don't blame him if he never does. But I want you to know I love you,
Charlie, and I always will even if you never speak to me again. Our mom,
who put this whole show together, suggested that I put my feelings to
music, so that's what I'd like to do. This is a song I heard the Statler
Brothers sing. It's had no legal clearing, I don't even know if I can legally
sing it without violating some copyright law, but I don't care. It expresses
how I feel the best way I know how, so with your kind permission, I'd like
to sing it now and dedicate it to my brother Charlie. You're totally
awesome, dude!"

Christopher stood and watched Andy as he made his speech. He saw him
tremble; heard the insecurity in his voice. He loved Andy more in that
moment than he'd ever done in his life. Ever since their first meeting in the
empty dormitory, Christopher had admired Andy. He had been in total
panic when he'd seen this stranger in his dorm, and had come very close to
wetting his pants when the stranger caught him. But Andy had held him,
restrained him, but never gave the slightest hint that he meant any harm. To
Christopher he was as strong as an ox, tough as nails; yet gentle as a lamb.
Now he was standing in front of a crowd of people, more people than
Christopher had ever seen in one place before, baring his soul! As the tears
threatened, Christopher knew he had no choice; he had to do whatever he
could to help Andy, his brother!

Andy backed toward Karen and whispered. She nodded and went back to
her keyboards. She played a short introduction as Wade took his place at
the drums, Dennis picked up his guitar, Christopher his violin. Charlie, not
having the slightest idea what they were doing, picked up his bass guitar
and waited. As his mother got into the intro he recognized it and began to
play along, as did all the others. This was a song they'd sung a few times
but decided they weren't going to sing in the concert; but it seems Andy
was going to change all that. Right on cue, in the most beautiful voice
anyone had ever heard come out of Andy, he began to sing.

       If it makes any difference, and I'm sure that it won't
       If you think I laugh and take in life, you're wrong, this time I don't.
       Look at me if you're still looking for the place the blame should fall.
       I'm sick and simply sorry, if it makes any difference at all.

As he finished the first verse, Christopher joined him on the chorus, his
crisp clear soprano voice singing tenor two octaves above, as Charlie had
done in his gospel quartet.

       If it makes any difference about me and you
       If it makes any difference any more what I do.
       Knowing how I've made you feel this blue, being about so tall,
       I'm sorry and I love you, if it makes any difference at all.

       If it makes any difference, I was wrong from the start
       These aren't more sweet talkin' words, these are from the heart.
       I've walked around the truth before, but this time I'm ready to crawl.
       What else can I say but I'm sorry, if it makes any difference at all.

Charlie realized what Andy was doing. He knew how difficult it must have
been and he began to feel deep remorse for his attitude over the past two
weeks. So he communicated with Andy the way he always did best: he
joined the other two and sang tenor in the closing chorus.

       If it makes any difference about me and you
       If it makes any difference any more what I do.
       Knowing now I've made you feel this blue, being about so tall,
       I'm sorry and I love you, if it makes any difference at all.

There was very little applause after Andy finished his song. At the end,
everyone in the group was playing and singing, including Charlie.
Somehow the audience had sensed that this was a very serious situation,
one that demanded empathy, not noisy applause. Andy got his empathy,
but it mattered little to him. What mattered was Charlie's reaction; but
Charlie couldn't react because his tears prevented it.

"That was truly beautiful, Andy." Karen said when they were finally
backstage, "But when I suggested you sing the way you feel, I never
dreamed you'd do it in front of the world."
"Yeah, man," Charlie added as he hugged Andy, "TRULY beautiful!"
"Ya think so Charlie?" Andy said, ignoring Karen completely.
"No, I don't think so, I KNOW so! I also know I'd like to do two things
now."
"Two things?" Andy questioned. They were standing backstage facing each
other, still embracing, each looking deep into the eyes of the other.
"Uh-huh. First I'm gonna kill that little shit we call a brother for helping
you make me cry on stage. Then I'm gonna take you off somewhere, just
to two of us, and take up where we left off. Any objections?"
"Yeah," Andy grinned, "I don't think we should kill Christopher. He's a
pretty decent lil shit."

"Andy," a small voice came from behind, "Call me Chris? Please?"
"But... uh... Christopher, you made it very clear that you did NOT like
being called Chris. What changed your mind?"
"Did not! My momma always wanted me to be called by my full name. But
she's gone now. I think it's time to finally let her go. I got a new mom
now, an' three of the greatest brothers on earth. So from now on I'm
Chris!"
"If... if you say so... CHRIS." Andy said, "But that doesn't mean you
aren't still a lil shit!"
"You ain't seen nuthin' yet." he returned, "Charlie, are you gonna get this
big bag o' wind outa here or not? If you don't I'm gonna be forced to tease
him till he wants to kill me too."
"Right away, CHRIS!" Charlie answered as he grabbed Andy's hand and
led him to the door.

"I'm so sorry, Andy." Charlie said when they'd found a small room where
they could be alone, "I shouldn't have reacted..."
"I don't want to hear it." Andy said as he placed his index finger on
Charlie's lips, "You reacted the way you always do, by showing your true
feelings. But it doesn't matter who shoulda done what. All that matters
now is I'd like to kiss you, if it's all right."

Charlie didn't answer. He couldn't, because his mouth was sealed against
Andy's, his tongue exploring deeply. Andy moaned softly as he tasted the
sweetness in his mouth and went totally limp (except for one part of him)
at the thought that suddenly popped into his mind: that he hadn't lost
Charlie forever. "We better get back to the others," he said when he'd
finally pulled away from Charlie, "Just hold that thought till bedtime. Right
now Carlo's throwing a party for us and I think people will talk if we're
not there."
"Let 'em talk!" Charlie answered, "I got a month's catching up to do."
"C'mon, you horny lil eunuch," Andy laughed, "It'll be all that much
sweeter if we wait all evening and think about it."

"WOW!" Charlie exclaimed after they'd been in bed for an hour, "Now I
know what they mean when they say making up is great. We gotta have a
fight like that more often."
"I sure hope you're kidding," Andy answered, "I never wanna go through
that again."
"I'm kidding." Charlie confirmed, "I'm not thrilled at the prospects of
going through it either."

They talked well into the night about what had happened and why it
happened. Each admitted to part of the fault, each apologized to the other,
and both committed to stop and think a little more before they acted.
Finally Charlie snuggled into Andy the way he'd done so many times and
whispered "Let's go to sleep. I wanna wake up just like this, and I can't
unless we get to sleep."

Needless to say after that concert, which got aired on TV stations across
the nation, the Conner family was very popular, very much in demand.
Before they knew it they were making appearances all over the country.
They were making records, and most important of all, trying to balance
their new fame and success with the simple life of a farm family which none
of them wanted to give up. And that's where we'll leave them, struggling
to balance their success as performers with their efforts to build an
enlarged farm, and of course their incredible success at building a family
that was itself no small miracle.

The Conner Family never will become a household name, and they'll
probably never produce a gold record. They've been told they probably
could, but the farming lifestyle they have chosen is simply inconsistent with
an entertainer's life. The constant traveling, doing one night stands and
living out of a bus, simply didn't appeal to them. To engage in such a
lifestyle would mean giving up their lives as farmers, and they simply were
not prepared to do that. They had many family discussions about it so they
knew their options and the price of each. And they paid the price gladly for
the life they all enjoy.

The jury is still out on who of the boys is gay and who is not; who is in
love with whom and who, if anyone, will pair off and with whom. They
aren't worried about it, so why should we? At the moment each has three
brothers and loves them all; each has been intimate with the others and is
comfortable with their experiences and not worried about labels or
categories. Each knows the other will be there for him should he need it;
one by one they have all proved their love, their devotion, their
commitment.

Karen and Dennis are aware of some of the activities the boys have been up
to, but not all. They also suspect that they don't know all there is to know,
but they're not worried about that either. They are sensitive people so they
can see the love that bonds their sons together, and that is enough for
them. Karen had often, as the family grew from one son to two and then
four, expressed sentiments that she was getting more and more
outnumbered as the male population increased. But she seems to have
covered that issue too. She announced right after their inaugural show that
she is pregnant; and she already knows that the baby is a girl! The boys are
all thrilled at the prospect of having a little sister. That will be one spoiled
little girl.

Andy decided not to start college right away. He had only had a real home
for two years and he simply was not ready to leave it. There was the farm
expansion to deal with, three brothers being home schooled and Karen
could use all the help she could get, to say nothing of the busy concert and
recording schedule they were keeping. So tentative plans are for him and
Charlie to start at the same time, when Charlie graduates in three years.
Surprise, surprise!

Paul and Chris wasted no time getting used to the idea of being typical
farm kids. They were devoted to each other, and between them could find
more mischief to get into than Karen and Dennis ever dreamed possible.
Incidents like going swimming in the sewage lagoon, underestimating the
depth of mudholes and coming home filthy, falling in the manure trough
countless times in the barn, were all commonplace. Those two spent as
much time in the shower as they did in their beds! But they were good kids,
hard workers and good students.

There is one more song I want to leave with you. It's a song that the
Conner family sings during every performance, almost every time they get
together at home. Many musical groups choose something as a "signature
song," a song with which they want to be identified. The Conner's didn't
choose this song, but it has become something of a de facto signature for
them. Each of the four boys has sung it as a solo; they have sung it in
duets, and the entire group has sung it together. Every time they sing it,
they sing it to each other. Perhaps that's why it's always requested,
because it illustrates for all to see the pure love and admiration each has for
the other. This song has been sung by a variety of artists, was introduced
quite some time ago by a country music legend: George Jones. In this
writer's opinion there is not much good to be said about the technical
merits of George's singing; but he still packs 'em in, still gets his point
across and touches hearts as well as the most highly trained opera singer.
But then with songs like this, is there any wonder? The chorus goes
something like this:

     You're as smoo-ooth as Tennessee whiskey
     You're as sweet as strawberry wine
     You're as warm as a glass of brandy
     And I stay stoned on your love all the time.

        The End (or is it the beginning?)

                *       *       *

I promised at the beginning of this story to give a few explanations. I began
writing this conclusion several weeks ago, but it got too long. So I'm going
to start over. If I leave any questions unanswered please email me; I will try
to answer all questions.

THE DIAPERS:

Like Charlie in the story, I spent two years wearing diapers 24 hours a day.
Also like Charlie, at the same time I was having incredible pains in my
testicles. I saw two family doctors, an internist, and two urologists. They
all wanted to deal with the incontinence first and basically ignored the
pains. I tried to tell them I could deal with the diapers but the pain was
debilitating me. One urologist even had the nerve to tell me that it all went
back to my childhood, that my mother had potty trained me all wrong!
Anyone who knows me understands that you do NOT find fault with my
mother! I was 57 at the time, my mom died when I was 14. I'm sure my
mom wasn't as perfect as I see her to be now, but she was certainly far and
away better than a lot of mothers I've seen over the years. That same
doctor suggested that the pains were coming from the internal struggle
going on between my bladder trying to empty itself and my sphincter trying
to hold it back.

I tried to tell the good doctor that I knew the difference between a bladder
pain and a pain in the balls, but I was a mere patient; what did I know?
Anyway to make a long story short, I finally decided that I would no longer
tolerate that pain, so I had myself castrated. I found that no "mainstream"
doctor would do such a thing no matter what, so I resorted to the Trans
Gender community. Eventually I came upon a doctor in Philadelphia who
devotes his life to helping TG's achieve their goal. He provides hormones,
advice, contacts, and personally does castrations. In April 1997 I visited
him and became a eunuch. It is not something I recommend to any young
man, and certainly not a boy! I was 58 years old and pretty well through
with them anyway, and relief from all that pain was well worth it!

I should also point out at this point that I've found out since writing the
story that they do not do biopsies on testicles. It has to do with the fact
that the testicles themselves drain into one part of the body, the scrotum
another; to do a biopsy would compromise the integrity of those two areas
and tend to spread any cancer that might be present. So they assure
themselves with ultrasounds, examinations and blood tests, that the patient
"probably" has cancer. If they end up removing one or both the testicles,
they can do tests after the fact and determine if they were right; but it's still
a very big guessing game. And no, I didn't have cancer. I had a simple
hyrocele that could have been easily corrected if anyone had done a simple
ultrasound, but no one did.

One benefit of castration that I wasn't expecting was that my incontinence
disappeared overnight! The only explanation I can offer is that the urologist
who said the incontinence was causing the pain had the diagnosis reversed:
I believe the pain had got so severe that I'd lost the ability to control my
water works or even feel the urges when they came. As soon as the pain
was gone the control returned. It's almost three years now and I haven't
worn a diaper since the surgery.

I have received a lot of questions about eunuchs, what they can and cannot
do, etc. Before attempting to answer let me first say that I have no actual
knowledge of any male having been castrated before puberty; all the
information I've given in this regard came from various things I've read.
What I can relate with some authority is my own experience and that of
other eunuchs I have known, all having been at least 30 at the time of
castration.

My doctor is constantly nagging me to take testosterone shots because he
believes a long term lack of hormones will lead to osteoporosis. I have my
bone density checked regularly and so far there has been no deterioration.
As for other changes: Obviously my voice hasn't changed back, but I have
discovered that I can indeed increase my upper range by lots and lots of
exercising, i.e. singing as high a note as I can without forcing it. I will
never be a soprano, but I can sing higher than I used to. After puberty my
voice ended up somewhere in the low baritone high bass range. I sang bass
for many years, but about 20 years ago I found myself in a choir where
tenors were desperately needed. I volunteered because I was one of the
few men in the choir who could read music. I liked singing tenor and
enjoyed the challenge, and when I found my range increasing I continued
even after the need was not so great. But based on my experience I suspect
that the castrati in Italy were the way they were due to both their castration
and their training.

I have compared notes with many eunuchs, three of whom I have met and
consider to be my friends. I've learned that effects vary greatly: some men
are almost completely impotent while others experience few of the effects I
describe here. Some report that their penis has shrunk; mine has not. It
does stay soft most of the time though, so it gives the illusion of having
shrunk. I suspect that over time it will shrink because it is made of a form
of muscle tissue, and all muscles shrink some amount when they are not
exercised. I was surprised to learn that all men have several erections
during the night which, even if you're sexually inactive, provides some
level of exercise; eunuchs, of course, do not have these erections.

Sexually, I find my libido is very much reduced, which at my age is a good
thing. It can be very frustrating to be 61 years old, be horny as an 18 year
old with little or no outlet. I almost never have erections any more unless I
want one, and then it takes a little longer than it did. I have orgasms, but
they are dry. They feel different but still very enjoyable. That, they tell me,
is because the prostate, the main source of seminal fluid, depends on
testosterone for its survival and without it will go dormant and eventually
shrivel up and go away like any other unused body part. Again, this is a
good thing considering how many older men die of prostate cancer.

For the first year or so after the surgery I had a lot of hot flashes and night
sweats similar to what a woman experiences in menopause. That's normal,
I was told, and is caused by the body's reaction to losing the hormones.
They have reduced now to a very acceptable level, but I still find I am more
sensitive to temperature changes. I don't tolerate cold as well as I used to,
but of course I'm growing older too which could explain some of that. I
have noticed a loss in body hair, and what I still have is somewhat lighter in
color and texture. Other men have reported weight gain and loss of muscle
tone, even development of breasts in some cases, but I have experienced
neither of these. Male pattern balding is said to be almost non-existent in
eunuchs, but I can't comment because the males in my family do not tend
to go bald anyway.

Many castrated men say they have a tendency to depression, but I suspect
that is at least partly due to the reason for their castration. Before my
surgery I studied and researched the subject carefully, weighed all the side
effects against my situation as it was then. When I finally made my decision
I was ready for it, prepared for the effects and was willing to tolerate them
to get rid of the pain. I'm afraid others are not so prepared, and of course if
it is done because of something like cancer they have no choice. I also
believe the younger one is, the more profound the effects on emotions.

CANCER AND CHEMO THERAPY

In my dealing with Charlie's cancer I'm afraid I exaggerated, although
having lived through it that's how I feel. No, I didn't have cancer, but my
wife did. She was diagnosed in 1994 with breast cancer, had one breast
removed, then was put on a 9 month chemo program. To this day I don't
know who suffered more: her and the resulting sickness, or me watching
her trying so hard to be positive, trying to keep on keeping on even though
she felt like death itself. Praise God she got through it and we still have her
with us today. Her health is shot due in part to that therapy, but she's still
here and still cancer free.

One of the biggest thrills of my life is to go with her each spring to the "run
for life," a marathon run to support breast cancer research. After the run,
they have a stage set up with live music.... they issue pink baseball caps to
all the survivors and have them process to the foot of the stage while they
sing the song "What a wonderful world." No one, I mean NO ONE who
loves a breast cancer victim can go through that without shedding a few
tears. During the run, everyone is issued one of three signs to pin on their
backs. (1) ...name... SURVIVOR; (2) IN HONOR OF...name..., A
SURVIVOR; (3) IN MEMORY OF... name... I always shed a few more
tears when I see little kids in that run, wearing signs that read "IN
MEMORY OF MY MOM." I guess I kinda relate to kids who lose their
mom's prematurely because I was one, and I never got over it.

THE CASTRATI CHOIR

To the best of my knowledge, this choir exists only in my imagination. It
was inspired mostly by the book "Cry to Heaven" by Anne Rice. Ms. Rice
is a good writer, has extracted many tears from me, and given me some
information I didn't now. I keep in contact with the eunuch community
now, simply because I am one. Men have many reasons for getting
castrated and I try not to judge. The loss of those hormones, even at my
age, has a profound effect on one's life, and it's good to know as much as
possible about it. But to castrate a young boy simply for his voice as they
did for over two hundred years in Europe, is one of man's biggest
disgraces in my opinion. It has been estimated that for every good singer
produced, there were two hundred boys castrated who either bled to death,
committed suicide, or simply didn't make it and ended up being a servant
somewhere because he was not considered a viable part of society. We
humans are so cruel, so selfish!

GARTH

There has been a Garth in my life. His name wasn't Garth, but that'll do for
the purposes of this discussion. He wasn't a brother, he was a son. We
adopted Garth when he was 16 months old. The problems started by the
time he was 18 months, and they never ceased to this day! He was in
residential treatment for extreme behavior problems when he was 14,
which is when he decided he didn't want to come home... ever! And that's
when I began to learn how much his brother, two years his junior, had
suffered. It took Garth's final and permanent absence to give Kevin the
courage to begin to relate what he'd been through. Suffice to say even
though I consider him my son, and myself a failure for not meeting
whatever his needs were, I'm glad he's gone for the sakes of our other
three children.

Garth is 32 now, still very much alive and constantly in and out of jail. We
hear from him from time to time, usually threatening us in some way. I
have been assured over and over that I did the best anyone could expect,
but unless you have lost a son, there's simply no way you can understand.
In my mind I let him down. I don't know how and probably never will at
least in this life, but I believe that somehow he could have been saved, if
only I'd known how.

Well, I guess that's it. I appreciate all the many comments and
encouragements I've received; I appreciate David, the Nifty archivist, and
all his efforts keeping all the stories, libraries, authors straight (no pun
intended). Again, if I've left unanswered questions please feel free to ask. I
do reserve the right to not answer personal questions, but I promise not to
be offended; you'll never know if you don't ask.

Thanks again, everyone! And I hope you all have a very enjoyable and safe
holiday season, whatever you call it and however you celebrate it in your
particular religion or faith.

Charlie

If you wish to comment on this story, please send your comments to me at
charlieje@mindspring.com