Essay: Third Draft

As I stare upon this torn picture, wishing that I had never torn this part away, I try to remember what it was like when the picture was taken. How could it possibly have gotten this far? As I flip through the photo album, I see my daughter’s wonderful smile.

She was coming home from a date with Drew and she was happy. Today she came home different than the other times, with a frown on her face. She eventually comes and tells me that she they had broken up. I didn’t ask why or what happened, I was just there and I consoled her and hugged her. I sat there as I hugged my best friend, my daughter, my own flesh and blood.

 After several months had passed by, someone had later came up to me and told me that they saw her with her a girl walking by the shore and they were pretty close to each other. Well they were friends so I assumed that they were together and having fun. I trusted her so it was fine. Then the same person came to me and showed me images that she wasn’t in fact friends with this girl, that they were actually together and dating each other. I did not want to believe it because well it wasn’t really great proof, but then I started to ask my daughter who was this girl that she was with. She said nothing was going on and that they were just friends. I brushed off what the source told me. Then some other people of my community asked about the other girl, so I started to get suspicious and wonder what was going on.

 I notice that she has been acting differently and leaving herself in her room more and more. We don’t really talk as often as we had done before. I needed to confront her about this, it was on my mind and I had to find out for myself if what they are saying is true or not.

 I had just returned home from volunteering at the church and found this opportunity to speak to her. I went and grabbed myself a glass of water. I didn’t want anyone else to hear this conversation so I locked us inside. I wasn’t about to leave until I got what I wanted to know.

I said, “Something is going on, I can tell. Talk to me what is it? I won’t leave until you tell me.”
“What are you talking about,” she said wondering what I was talking about.
 I laid it out to what was going on and what I’ve been hearing about her. I also noticed that she acted differently, and I even think she changed the style of her clothes recently. At first she said that she did drugs before, but only once. She then said she was struggling with the idea that she is not straight and is gay. When she had said this the color on my face drained, I could not bear to look at my daughter at that moment, even as she left the room and went out. It was late and she decides to come back home.

“Where have you been, it’s late?” I asked.
She just simply responded, “Out.”
“You haven’t been out with others…other gay…people…have you?”
She replied, “It wouldn’t change anything if you knew or didn’t.”
“I know what’s best for you, I’m your mother, and I don’t want you to be around those kinds of people. They’re influencing you!”

I thought we had some trust between us. There were supposed to be no secrets, she was my best friend, my only friend. I know my daughter. I don’t know why she is doing this. I know this is not her. I always want the best for her; I always try to make her happy. I want her to listen to me. When she had left I had gone out to the church to pray. I didn’t tell anyone. I can’t let anyone know. I don’t want her to spend time wit her, I don’t want them to be together. I feel that whatever I ask for in prayer will be received and I need her to pray as well.

I blurted, “Being gay is a choice!”
“You think I choose to become like this? You think I want my family to hate me. You think I want to be suffering because you don’t love me anymore...” She said in return.
“ I do love you.”
She responded, “No ...you love who I used to be in your eyes.”
“You ask for too much. You are forcing me to accept you and I will not do it. You can’t force me.”
“I’m not forcing you to do anything... I just want you to understand”
“What am I supposed to understand. You’re not the same person anymore. I don’t trust you. I don’t even know who you are anymore.”
“Mom. I’m not any different. I’m still the same person. Love me or accept that you don’t have a child anymore.”
“I won’t accept it. I can’t do it,” I simply said in return.
“Then mom...Forget that I’m even your child,” she said as she walked away in tears.
As soon as she left, I broke down in tears. My world was coming crashing down.

 This child of mine feels that she is different and just doesn’t want to listen to me when I know what she truly is. I know her well enough. What did I do wrong as a mother? Where did I go wrong? There is supposed to signs at an early age and stuff, that’s what others say, but I didn’t see any. The only reason that she is this way that makes sense is that she is on drugs. They probably make her believe that it is right, when it really isn’t.

 If she wont listen to me, maybe she will listen to other people. But even the psychologists and doctors could not make her change otherwise. They could not get to her. I don’t know what can help her if they can’t. the power of God was strong. I believed making her go to mass and pray and think about making herself become better would make things right again in her. That she would become healed by God and make her become my little child.

 She would come home everyday and sit in her room, and even at night, I could hear her wake to tears. I would wonder what she’s thinking and what would be in those dreams that makes her feel that way. She shuts the door to her room as she shuts the door away from me and those in the house as well.

 As the family was away at church and she stayed behind because she had a lot of work to do the night before and she needed to rest, we went out without her and left her behind so that she can possibly get some rest. Although she would have been alone at home for awhile. When I return, it is pretty cold as the rain drops hit the window and slid down the pane. My other child, the younger sister, sits by the windowsill watching the rain. I go into the kitchen to start the dinner. Later on the little one goes into the bathroom and shrieks and screams in a frantic wail and runs into the kitchen. I cant understand half of what she is saying, she tugs me out of the kitchen in her frantic tears and wailing and into the bathroom.

 There in the tub in front of me, I see my older child. I see my best friend, or what was left of my best friend. I stand there holding onto the door frame with my mouth wide open in astonishment. I no longer could stand there anymore, I slowly slid down the door frame and sat there rocking back and forth. I went over to hug my younger child. I my mind went completely blank as I sat in sorrow and wept. Sitting there for what felt like a lifetime I could not absorb what I saw. I sat frozen in time from the second I saw what she had done. I didn’t want to see this anymore. I couldn’t handle it.

 I went over to drain the tub and as I sit and watch the water wash away her pain and sorrow, I felt a piece of me drift away. A piece that I can never get back again. Oh my god, what am I to do? I’m stuck and lost and now I can never erase what has happened. My youngest daughter goes back to her room and then later comes to me and shows me the note that was left on the sisters bed, since they share a room with each other, I guess she found it as she was probably on her bed.

 I walk back into my room and I remember the note that my daughter had given me from earlier that she found. I finally get the courage to see what the letter even said and realized that it explained why she had done what she did to herself. I couldn’t grasp it. As my eyes skim the pages tears fall upon the pages as I see why she had done this. She said that couldn’t handle it all anymore. She wasn’t about to change and especially for me because she knew who she was. She tried changing and things weren’t getting any better. Men just wasn’t right for her and she couldn’t handle it. She is gay, she was still my daughter and loved me. She didn’t like being treated differently. She can’t change into something that wasn’t her. She was still my best friend. And in reading that she still loved me made me feel so much better inside.

 But I pushed her to her limits and now I’m down someone that I actually cared about and could have still had today. I wish she could be here so I could have apologized for the way I acted that would push her to her limit. Now I’m stuck cleaning up for something I had caused to her.

 Word soon spreads to the community about my child’s death. I do not know how to handle it anymore. I spend the next few days thinking about things to myself. I look things up online, read, go out and figure things out for myself.

 I see a slip to go to a place that is religious and yet is open to other new things like gay people. I couldn’t even think that this was possible. The Bible doesn’t say that this is even allowed. It wasn’t being grasped by my head. I couldn’t handle it.

 Another stormy rainy week arrives. And all I think about is the death of my child. Reminding me of what had happened before the same day and weather almost, even similar time of day. I can’t stop thinking about it, it just never leaves my mind. My doorbell constantly rings with people that want to tell me how they feel about my daughter’s death and hatred towards the gay community. I mean I love my daughter and all but I feel like I should the one there to protect her anyways.

 I don’t know what think in anymore. I love my daughter, but I dislike the fact that she was gay and that her death also contradicted the teachings that had been taught to her. I found a special group that was meeting for parents that mourn the loss of their child and search for support. I waltz in and see that it has already started. Someone and stands up and talks about the death of their child because they were gay. I get up and they realize that I was there paying attention to what they were saying. They instantly recognize who I am and want me to share a few words. I adamantly refuse, but I felt an urge to say what was on my mind.

“Homosexuality is a sin. They are doomed to spend eternity in hell for going into temptations. They could have easily been healed of their ways if they turn away and try and try again to be normal. These are the things I said to my child.”
The people listening murmur and whisper in the background as I speak.
“These are the things that I told my daughter when I found out that he was gay. My world fell apart and I did everything I could to cure her of her sickness when she told me she was gay.”

People shake their heads and as more and more people crowd around into the group, some even nod their heads.

“Everything I was told and taught was bigotry and dehumanizing slander and I deeply regret my lack of knowledge. If I had just listened to her when she was pouring her heart out to me she would still be here today. God would have been more than happy and very pleased with the good she did and her caring spirit. I didn’t realize that every time I reverberated eternal hell and damnation for gays, that each time I called her a pervert, a whore, and a danger to everyone, that her self esteem, confidence and self worth were being shot down and shattered into pieces. Her spirit was broken and couldn’t be put together again.  (explain death?)  Her death was a direct result of her parents ignorance and fear of the word gay. There are other children like her out there whose hopes, dreams and visions shouldn’t be ripped away from them.”

I broke down in tears trying to capture my breath to finish my last words. I couldn’t stop myself so I had to keep going.

“Our children do love us and do listen to us. Before anything, think hard, because a child is listening always. Don’t silence their plea for help, acceptance, guidance, and love because of your fears and ignorance.”