Gay of A Certain Age - Tony

I am sad.

As I turned fifty, along with the celebration of half a century of life, I understood that death is a little closer.  It’s just a fact of aging.  I’m fortunate that my most of my grandparents lived well passed their 80’s, both of my parents are still living.  I just figured that there would be people around me aging out of life, so to say.  I’m at a point in life where I’ll start losing loved ones to old age more often.  Then there’s this: My friend Tony died this past Sunday night.  He was 43 years old and was one of the sweetest people I’ve ever had the pleasure to have known.  His love of horror and cheeseball movies was quite infectious and probably why we got along well.  Even if we didn’t have that in common, he was such a nice, kind and lovable person, it would have been impossible to not love him.  Truth be told, we didn’t hang out as much as I would have liked, what with my scattershot schedule- and we rarely had one on one time together. Usually, we saw each other in groups, large (muh DAB, Dudley’s fabulous parties) or small (Bad movie Nights or TV Time Machine viewings) and a night of scary movies at his place,(where he cooked me my very own portion of gluten-free pasta!)  He was always a sweetheart and I swear I don’t think I ever saw him in a bad mood.  A few years back, there came a time when I realized I wasn’t seeing Tony as much as usual and a mutual friend let me know that Tony was not feeling well.  Then I learned that he had cancer and was fighting a quiet battle.  Looking back, I wish I had asked him more directly about what was going on with him, but I didn’t want to intrude on his privacy.  I think I let him know I was rooting for him in his fight, without saying it.  I think I should have said it.

 There was a period of remission.   Then, it was back.

By this time, my friend, Brett, had become a little bolder in his old age (we’re the same age) and when he learned of Tony’s renewed fight, he found ways to gently ask and offer help.  I benefited from this.  I rode Brett’s coattails into the conversation and didn’t feel so much as if I was intruding or disrespecting Tony’s boundaries.  I got to ask my own questions and express concern.  We continued seeing each other at gatherings and swapping a text or two here and there.  I thought the fight was going well, then a few weeks ago I heard he was not doing so well.  Again, instead of asking questions, I stayed in the background “respecting boundaries”.  Then, there was that missed call late on Sunday night from a mutual friend, the friend at whose home we met.  No message.  It was much later in the night when I saw that I missed the call and figured I would call back in the morning to see what was up.  Getting in bed with my iPad, I saw the post on Facebook.  Tony is gone.

I knew he was sick and this moment might come, but still…

I thought of his boyfriend and his family. I thought of our friends, especially the ones who were much closer to him.  I thought of his smile and his laugh; THE APPLE; the Halloween & Christmas Music mixes he’d send out every year; cheesy movies; the parties; the TV nights; the costumes; that bowl of Barilla gluten-free pasta; the silly things I’d seen that made me think of him…

I felt sad, but I didn't feel bad for him.  He died at such a young age, but as I observed, he enjoyed life very much.  He had a great group of friends and found joy & fun in a lot of things many people would dismiss as too silly or chintzy to pay attention to.  He's had at least two long term relationships, that I can think of.  I've got a ten year head start, and I still have not had all those things.

He did not die alone. He had loved ones around him and friends holding him in their hearts.

As a Gay of A Certain Age, I've reached a point where I expect to lose people (who are much older!), but there will be a few who leave too soon.  I've learned that I have to make a distinction between "respecting boundaries" and protecting myself.  I wonder how much I've denied myself and others, believing I was not intruding and making someone else comfortable.  Whatever the answer is, I do not doubt that Tony knew how much I loved him.  I do wonder how much more he would have accepted from me, though. I also know that to sit and dwell on it is not something that would please him. So, I will take this and move forward and remember Tony as the sweet and fun loving guy he was. and always will be in my heart.

Goodnight, Tony! May the apple forever be yours

and may you meet an actual, actual, actual vampire.

And may every day be Halloween!

Goodbye - Maria

My sister-in-law, Maria, died yesterday.  It's odd to start the new year with a Goodbye.
Maria was a little over a year older than me and she was a blast.  I will always remember her high energy level and sassiness.  There was a period of time, after I had left El Paso, that she was hanging out with my best friend, Ted and I had to stop him from telling me about their wild adventures together.  I didn't want to know.  All I know, for sure, is they weren't hanging out watching Golden Girls.  She was always nice to me and the first in my family to guess that I was gay.  She made me feel like it didn't matter.  I always appreciated that.  I saw even less of her and my brother after they left El Paso for San Antonio.  I never went to visit, because I thought seeing them at holiday family gatherings was fine.  I never saw her after she left my brother a few years ago.

I can't exactly say what happened between them,  I just know that my brother was hurt very much by the break up.  Since the break up, I had only spoken with her on the phone for a few minutes and those friendly calls always ended with a bit of wackiness.  I didn't think much about Maria over the last few years, I just assumed that she was happily living the new life she left my brother for.  Then, a few days before Christmas, I got a text from my sister saying that Maria was in dire condition and in desperate need of a liver.  I was a little surprised by the part of the text that said that she was with my brother and he was taking care of her.  It wasn't astonishing, since she was the mother of his two sons. It is heart wrenching, yet hopeful, for this woman, who had hurt him so badly, to come back in a desperate state and have him take her in and care for her.  Sadly, she did not get the liver she needed and she died.  I am a little mollified knowing that she was not alone in those final moments.  It's good to get confirmation that it's literally never too late to return to the ones you love, even if you have hurt them and have them take you in.   If you are someone who is worried about dying alone because you feel you've hurt someone too much, take a chance and reach out.  You may be surprised.  I realize dying alone with me may not be enough for some...

Goodbye, Maria

5/20/1966 - 1/1/2016

Gay of A Certain Age - No Heart is Safe!

A few weeks ago, Ginger went to that big doggie bed in the sky.
Ginger was one of the dogs I dog sit on a regular basis.  She was always at my hand ready for some heavy petting.  She was always up for getting smacked in the face with socks.  I also liked that sometimes she slept on the bed with me, sometimes she didn't- she liked to tease me.
She was old.  As a Gay of a Certain Age who dog/cat sits for a few people on a regular basis, I have to come to the realization that thems pups is aging.  It seems that as they age, they are more prone to ailments that suck.  How is it that three dogs I know have cancer?

Buck has had cancer and fought it, he is in much better shape now, but he's still shaky.

Then, there's Buck's brother, Zorro, who at the very least seemed supportive of Buck while he went through his ordeal, only to find that after Buck has had a good turn, he has an advanced cancer that was not be curable.  I he's chasing squirrels in the sky, now.

Then there's this Dummy!  Mayhem.  I specifically told him not to get oral cancer and what does he do?  He gets it.  He's only 9 years old.  I have no idea where this one is headed, but something tells me he don't even know what's going on.

I've written about how I realized that I may be a withholder and don't express my feelings for some people, or let them too close, too soon.  It is the complete opposite with animals.  I love dogs very much and I'm a puppy kiss slut.  I will happily make out with your dog after just meeting.  You don't need a degree in psychology to figure that dogs are easier to love & trust because, even if they happen to be the biggest idiots on the planet, all they want to do is love you freely and be loved in return.  They will trust, sometimes to their detriment, as if you aren't the one who stepped on them on your way to the kitchen or ignored their call to play so that you could finish the last half of MAD MEN.  Sure, sometimes they're naughty and do something they know they aren't supposed to, but there is no malice in their hearts. 

It may be twisted, but I think sometimes I go for dog love so much easier than for people love because I don't feel like I need to protect myself from them.  There's nothing a dog can do to disappoint. ...except get sick and die.  On second thought, maybe that is why I don't have a dog of my own.  I keep telling myself that is is because I have such a busy schedule (I'm even too busy for dog love?) and it wouldn't be fair to a dog that I spend so little time at home sometimes.  That's why I love to dog sit my regulars. I get to love & be loved without committing.  I suppose I do that to protect myself even from innocent, unconditional love.  I don't suppose it's working.  My heart doesn't feel very protected right now.  It aches.

The Trials Of Man Solo - A Certain Kind of Death

When you visit a blog named DieAloneWithMe.Com,
you know you gotta consider the literal aspect of dying alone.
I know I've thought about it often.  You don't have to be elderly to die in your apartment
and lay there for days before people realize you're missing, then either look for you
or get informed by the apartment manager who smelled the stench of death.
I've imagined all kinds of interesting accidents that would leave me dead and waiting for discovery.
There's the one where I'm dancing like an idiot, trip over my own foot, slam my head on the
corner of my entertainment center and lay unconscious bleeding out on the carpet.
Or the one where I'm in the kitchen and am so hungry I pop six gluten-free mushroom ravioli
from Gelson's in my mouth all at once, then choke on them.  I desperately throw myself on the
floor to try to get a good rush of air to push the tasty Italian treat out, but I don't get it quite right and stay on the floor choking and ouching from the unsuccessful throw down, I pass out & die.
My absolute favorite is the one where I slip in the shower and fall through the glass shower door, in just the right way to completely cut myself entirely in half, leaving a gruesome & awful mess.
I have a great circle of friends, but honestly, I think I'd be down for at least two days before someone got worried enough to come looking for me.  Yes, contemplating my own lonesome death can be a little depressing, but with some morbid imaginings, it can be kind of fun, too!

If the subject hasn't scared you off, might I suggest for your morbid viewing curiosity,
a documentary I stumbled upon a few years back that has stayed with me.
It's called A CERTAIN KIND OF DEATH and it's about people whose job it is to identify the
dead who are all alone in the world, with little clue who they are.  It is depressing but fascinating!
You can catch it on the Video On Demand sites or HERE, on the YouTubes.
Watch it alone for full effect!

I'd watch it alone with you, but I have to set up a daily appointment with one of my DABs,
in order to lessen the likelihood of such a demise.

Don't Let's Be Literal

Today I learned that Dirk Shafer died.
Dirk played a small role on the road to my gay- He was in the first Playgirl Magazine I bought with a friend (oddly,  I was "not Gay" then).  As we looked through it, I remember saying "He's really good looking and it really is sexier that they are not showing dick."  It was a bit weird to finally get the courage up to buy the magazine to see naked men and it's the issue where they didn't show the stuff!  I learned later in Dirk's MAN OF THE YEAR, that he had convinced them to do it.  Thanks, Dirk!
Who knows, maybe my not seeing the stuff saved me from being Gay before I was ready.
Years later, I moved to LA and eventually met Dirk.  He was handsome, nice and funny.  We weren't quite regular friends, but whenever we saw each other, he always had a hug and a smile for me.  It was the same hug and smile he had for many people- he was well loved and admired.  Beyond his sexiness, he had an infectious positive attitude.  I aspired to be like him.  ...specifically on one night when we were in the same Bachelor Auction in 2008.  It was the night he fetched over $350 for a date with him-I wanted to be like that!  I fetched a very rough $60 that was clearly for charity.  Seriously, why wasn't he saved for last?  So, there we were, on that night, two bachelors side by side and now, roughly seven years later, both single - at least that's what he had listed on his Facebook profile.   Just a glance at his Facebook wall today,  will show you how much he was loved and how many people called him friend.  Although he was single, I don't think Dirk was ever lonely.

He was found in his car, parked near his home.   I choose to imagine he went quietly, without trauma and if he realized he was dying, his last thoughts were not worrying that he didn't love or wasn't loved enough.  Even though he is gone,  I still admire him and I can still aspire be like him- open, friendly, positive and supportive.    Those qualities are really what drew everyone to him, and with all that love, how could anyone feel alone?