Recollections - 1. Chapter 1

The flight was packed, much to my dismay. Earlier in the evening, I was panicking about the cross country trip we were about to embark on, but understanding that I had no choice…..I had to get on the plane. My other option was to stay in California, the state where I was born. The state where I lived a good portion of my life, and had built so many memories that are ingrained in my mind to this very day.

The dry heat in California was something I could never get enough of. I could lay out on the rocks on the Pacific coast and soak up the warmth of the sun while I slept the day away without a care in the world. The therapeutic sounds of the waves crashing against the boulders that line the beaches of the northern coast massaged my ear drums, making it easier to relax and let sleep come to me. Seagulls flying over head sang a song of freedom that beckoned me to listen.

Back home in Virginia, the beaches were so different. They were clean, sandy and flat. There was no rough terrain and no seaweed littering the beaches. Of course, that meant that there was less marine life to explore, too. The Pacific Ocean is the home of thousands of different strange and exciting species of animals. The ugliest fish made the tastiest meals, though. The magical shell of an abalone was a story in of itself. I could look at the rainbow color of the reflective silver lining and get lost in a tale that I didn’t have to hear. It was as if that shell served as a diary for the tender, tasty muscle. Looking at it, I imagined it floating through the murky waters of the Pacific, looking for a rock to latch onto and call home. That is, until someone like me came along to pry it away from its home, placing it in a large potato sack to be prepared in a deep fryer or stew.

Our vacation had been planned out well and executed almost flawlessly. The only drawback to a fun vacation is that it has to end. When you’re visiting family, it’s even harder to leave. I got to see people that I hadn’t seen in a long time, people I loved. I use to take their presence for granted when I was a little boy. I even resented it if I saw too much of them. They had a tendency to be bossy, at least in my opinion, and I was selfishly happy when they went home. Now I was sorry to be leaving them behind again, and I wondered to myself when I’d get to see them all again, and what the circumstances might be that would bring us together.

We had actually gone to California earlier in the year when my Great Grandfather passed away. He was eighty four, and he had lived a long, healthy life. But I felt a sense of mourning from his passing that I can’t really put into words. He was an important person in my life, and he was the true measure of a man in my opinion. He worked every day of his life, whether it was in his vineyards, on his dairy, or just in his back yard. He always had a shovel in his hand because it was all he knew.

My own Grandfather reminds me of him in a way, but in a different way. He’s not lazy by any means. He’s worked hard his whole life, and he raised four kids in the process. My dad is one of those kids he raised, and if I do say so myself, my Grandfather raised a real man. My dad is the toughest, bravest, hardest working man I know hands down. I’m not just saying that because he’s my dad and I love him, either. I’m saying that because he demonstrates it in everything he does.

But I would be lying if I didn’t say I had my own issues with my Grandfather. I was camping with my family last spring in North Carolina when I learned something about him. My cousin and my stepmom had gone to sleep in the tent, and it was just dad and I up with the fire. We were relaxing and talking about my job. At the time, I was working as a bagger at the NAS Oceana commissary for tips, and my dad was telling me all the jobs he had as a kid. He told me about his paper route, and about his job at a vegetable stand after school. I asked him why he worked so much, and his eyes moistened a little.

If I put his words in a quote, I wouldn’t be doing him justice because what he said was so profound. In so many words, he told me that when he was a little boy, my Grandfather had left him and my Aunt with my grandmother, who I haven’t been close with for a long time. He said they used to share custody, but that my Grandpa never paid child support like he was supposed to. Eventually, my Aunt gave up on my Grandma and stopped going to live with her when it was her turn to have them. My dad stayed with her, though, and he suffered terribly.

He told me that he used to listen at night through my Grandma’s bedroom door as she cried to herself, and he knew she was crying because she didn’t know what to do. She worked and went to school, but the pressure was building on her just the way my Grandfather had planned. So, in a manly gesture, my dad, at age ten, took a paper route in the morning and worked at a vegetable stand after school. When he wasn’t doing that, he was mowing lawns, passing out flyers and selling newspaper subscriptions. He did that until my Grandma became a Registered Nurse when he was fourteen and he was able to stop.

Even though I’m not the one who suffered through the pain my Grandfather inflicted, I have a hard time getting over what my dad told me. I love my Grandfather, and I’ll even admit that I’m shallow enough to love him more than my Grandmother. When I was really little my Grandmother started some kind of middle age crisis and decided she didn’t want me or any of her grandchildren in her life. Both of her kids ex-communicated her as a result, and she lives alone with her garden and her cats.

After we moved to Virginia, my life changed a lot. Actually, my dad’s life changed too, and in huge ways. The first thing that happened was that my dad took my cousin James in from my mom’s side of the family. He was thirteen at the time, and he was badly abused by his parents. He accidentally outed himself to my dad within days of his arrival, but my dad responded with love and caring. I won’t say there was understanding, because my dad made it seem like there was nothing to be understanding about. The only thing he worried about was James’ well being, emotionally and physically, as well as mine. That made coming out to him a lot easier when it was my turn.

Before and after I came out, there was Taylor, my best friend. Eventually, he became my boyfriend, too. Sooner than later, actually. We always pretended when we were little that we were actual boyfriends, but neither of us really understood that we were really forging a relationship. As the years went by and it became obvious that we were more than friends, we both came out as a couple to our two sets of wonderful parents. I feel truly blessed by The Lord to be surrounded by the adults I’ve grown up around.

When I got the news that Taylor was coming to California with us, my heart skipped a beat. I was dying to show him my old neighborhood and my old school yard. I wanted him to see the house I lived in, and the park I played at. I wanted to walk with him through the school grounds of El Vista Elementary School and reminisce about the days when I would line up at the four square court and wait for my turn to play.

Our vacation was better than I had imagined it could be. We had more fun than at any time in our lives. My dad rented a car for James and he drove us around, so it was almost like we were totally independent adults while we were there. We went to San Francisco, and we drove to Berkley, too. We went to People Park and strolled along the merchant tables along the way. We also got to go to Great America, one of the best theme parks in California.

Our vacation ended with a bang in Reno, where we celebrated my great, great Grandmother’s one hundredth birthday with a huge party at a banquet hall inside of the Boomtown casino. I felt a little awkward about being there with my Grandma and her side of the family, but as usual, I was proven wrong. I introduced Taylor as my boyfriend and my liberal, Dutch family accepted him with hugs and kisses. I don’t know why I was so shocked about that. Most of the people there spoke very little English because they had traveled from the Netherlands for the celebration. Once again I was reminded of how blessed I was to have the family I have.

The most significant event of the evening, at least for me, happened when my Grandmother, who I had said about ten words to since I was seven, walked up to Taylor, James and I and asked us why we weren’t dancing with everyone else. We all shrugged and didn’t really have an answer. Then she shocked me. She wrapped her arms around me and in Dutch, she told me how proud she was of me and how much she loved me. Then, she turned and hugged and kissed Taylor and told him how lucky I was to be with someone as hot as he was. Then she dragged my cousin James out to the dance floor and made him dance with her.

The next morning we had a ten o’clock brunch in the same banquet hall, and my Grandma made a point of having us all sit with her while we ate. It was nice to sit with my Grandma, or Oma, which was what I used to call her when I was little. But it made me a little sad to think about the years we missed out on. She was venomous to me when she pushed me away as a little kid, and it made me frightened to be around her. I had never seen her act the way she had acted in those days, and I never thought things would be okay enough for us to be sitting together at a table at her request.

When I took my seat on the plane, I gulped a little, but I quickly put all of that out of my head as I took notice of the hunky male in the seat next to mine. His thick hair was glowing with radiance as he took his seat, and his long arms seemed to ripple as he reached up and turned the air vent on above us. When he turned and flashed me a smile, I melted. Yes, I was a little sad to be leaving my birth state, but I was relieved to have him next to me as the plane taxied down the runway.

As we lifted off, I looked out the window, down on the lights of Sacramento, California. The capital city, the home of the Kings. Down below, a body of water glistened in the moonlight as it faded from my view. Finally, the city lights were gone, replaced by the dark shadows of the clouds we were flying through. I felt Taylor’s arm hook mine and his head resting on my shoulder. I planted a small kiss on his lips and grinned to myself as I realized how much I was looking forward to spending eight hours in the air with the love of my life.