Day 03 - Your parents, in great detail
The day that I meet Ryan in the quiet little coffee shop next to the bus loop it is raining.
The day that I meet Ryan in the quiet little coffee shop next to the bus loop it is raining. As I wait for him to arrive, I watch the afternoon commuters huddle under a few tiny bus shelters in hopes of staying dry. A few came prepared and stand smugly under their umbrellas while others give in to the inevitable fate of getting soaking wet. I can see Ryan make a dash from his car across the street with his jacket hood pulled over his head as he weaves in between traffic. The door jingles like in a cliché movie scene as he walks into the nearly empty coffee house and excuses himself for being late. As long as I have known Ryan, I have known him to be late. Never obscenely tardy but he is famous for being fashionably late. He orders a coffee from the barista and joins me at the window.
Ryan: Can you believe this storm; it’s been going for the last three days.
Talbot: There is something about the rain that is refreshing though. Like washing away everything and starting fresh.
R: Definitely. I do enjoy the smell, in fact it is my favourite time to write, when it’s raining. I have a hot cup of green tea and my laptop and I will write with the adjacent window open and the crisp, clean smell really inspires me.
T: What you are saying is that all the extra rain we have had over the last year is what pushed you to finish your book?
R: Heh, yeah. I guess so.
T: Speaking of your book, it’s a really powerful read. The family dynamic is brilliant. I’ve heard that the relationship your character has with his fictional parents is a lot like your relationship with your parents.
R: For the most part that’s true. When I was planning this story I considered the idea of what if something really big had happened to me when I was younger. How would my life be different? From that came the story.
T: How close is your character’s relationship with his mother to your own?
R: My mom is great. She always put my brother and I before herself. Being a single mom with two young boys, she really felt like that was the only option. But that’s the type of woman she is. She would prefer to give to us than to herself. In fact, now that we’re older, she’s still giving to us whenever we can. I try to stop her but she always manages to sneak some food home with me after I visit.
T: How about when you came out? Did she react like your character’s mother?
R: That situation is a little different. My coming out to my mom was a complicated endeavour. It was actually accidental. I had been sneaking around with this older boy and it was probably the first time I had really lied to her about who I was hanging out. She interrogated me one day when things didn’t add up and her questions came so quickly one right after the next, I didn’t have time to talk my way out of the inevitable. At the time her biggest fear was that I was on drugs. When it did come out, she was in shock, she had no idea. At least that’s what she said. I still believe she was just being kind.
T: And how did she react? Was their acceptance right away?
R: She was really good about telling me that she understood that it wasn’t a “choice” but it was still a big shock to her. She reminded me that she loved me she just didn’t know how she would adapt her mind. After all, as a mother she had envisioned me getting married and having kids - and even though I reminded her that I could still have those things, it was still not quite the picture she had in her mind. In the end, it took some time but she’s come a long way. In fact, we’re a lot closer now then we’ve ever really been.
T: Do you think that has anything to do with you coming out to her?
R: Certainly. She knows who I am. If she has a bit of gossip she’ll share it with me knowing she can trust me and I am the same with her. It’s great to know that she’s my number one supporter.
T: How about your father?
R: He’s a bit of a different story. When I was young, I held a lot of resentment for him. Actually to go back to the beginning, I really looked up to him. When he left us, well I felt betrayed. I also took my mom’s side completely. He was now the enemy and I made things difficult for him whenever possible. I remember one Friday he had come to pick us up for the weekend and I DID NOT want to go. I ran into the hills behind my house and hid for what felt like hours and watched his car sit parked out front of my house. It wasn’t until I started feeling guilty that my mom wasn’t getting to enjoy her evening that I climbed down to go back.
T: How did he react?
R: He was certainly patient. I might have only been in those hills for like fifteen minutes but in my mind it was longer. Regardless of how he acted towards us, to everyone else he was extremely proud. He would boast to others how smart I was and how talented of an athlete my brother was. My dad however was a musician. Every chance he got he picked up his guitar for an impromptu jam session and would sing country-western until my ears bleed. Don’t get me wrong, he’s a talented musician and a great singer, but when your a teenager and pop/rock is popular the last thing you want your dad to do is embarrass you by singing Dwight Yokum with more honky-tonk twang than Dwight could.
T: How are things now that you’re older?
R: Things are.... better? I think. There is still a part of me that is angry. But another part of me has just let go. He’s my father and when he wants to he can try. He’s still proud as hell about me.
T: How did he take you coming out to him?
R: The funny thing is, I never did. He and I never discussed girls or anything like that. Maybe he just knew, but when I was young, very young, I have distinct memories of him making extremely homophobic remarks and after the whole angry adolescent phase I decided that he didn’t deserve to know the real me. Truth is, I was afraid. Even though I was angry with him, I didn’t want to disappoint him. But my sexuality was far from a secret and since the community we come from is rather small I’m surprised it took him as long to find out as it did. He made a passing comment one time after a few too many beers but it wasn’t directly connected to me being gay. A few months later he was offering his queen size bed for me and my girl-best-friend instead of us having the two singles. It wasn’t until I had moved away that I heard about one Thanksgiving dinner at one of my Aunt & Uncles place that, after a few too many glasses of red wine, he announced that he knew about my homosexuality, in fact he was the first to ever know.
T: What was the reaction of the audience?
R: Heh Heh. You mean my family? Well he didn’t say it in a homophobic tone, in fact, it was him boasting with pride, I think, like he always had when talking about me. Everyone else just nodded along because it’s usually the best thing to do with my dad. Most of them had already known that I liked guys but they smiled and nodded anyways.
T: That’s good then.
R: It certainly is one less headache.
T: It seems your parents are a bit more “normal” than those in your story.
R: The parents in my story are more eccentric. I think my mom is what a mother, a parent should be like. Hopefully when the time comes and I have the chance to raise a kid, I do so with the same loving conviction she had. The ones in my story really just got lucky most of the time whereas my mom really put in the work but I like to think it didn’t go undeserving. After all she did raise this amazing young author. Heh heh.
T: She certainly did! And the father in the story was far more destructive than yours.
R: Well the father in my story simply did not care, I don’t believe my father ever felt like that. He loved my brother and I just did not always make the smartest decisions when it came to demonstrating that. But unlike the story, his intentions were not with malice.
T: Sounds like a pretty typical childhood.
R: At times. Haha. But what is typical these days anyways.
I will have more from my conversation with Ryan in a few days.
To see a list of the days click here.
The day that I meet Ryan in the quiet little coffee shop next to the bus loop it is raining. As I wait for him to arrive, I watch the afternoon commuters huddle under a few tiny bus shelters in hopes of staying dry. A few came prepared and stand smugly under their umbrellas while others give in to the inevitable fate of getting soaking wet. I can see Ryan make a dash from his car across the street with his jacket hood pulled over his head as he weaves in between traffic. The door jingles like in a cliché movie scene as he walks into the nearly empty coffee house and excuses himself for being late. As long as I have known Ryan, I have known him to be late. Never obscenely tardy but he is famous for being fashionably late. He orders a coffee from the barista and joins me at the window.
Ryan: Can you believe this storm; it’s been going for the last three days.
Talbot: There is something about the rain that is refreshing though. Like washing away everything and starting fresh.
R: Definitely. I do enjoy the smell, in fact it is my favourite time to write, when it’s raining. I have a hot cup of green tea and my laptop and I will write with the adjacent window open and the crisp, clean smell really inspires me.
T: What you are saying is that all the extra rain we have had over the last year is what pushed you to finish your book?
R: Heh, yeah. I guess so.
T: Speaking of your book, it’s a really powerful read. The family dynamic is brilliant. I’ve heard that the relationship your character has with his fictional parents is a lot like your relationship with your parents.
R: For the most part that’s true. When I was planning this story I considered the idea of what if something really big had happened to me when I was younger. How would my life be different? From that came the story.
T: How close is your character’s relationship with his mother to your own?
R: My mom is great. She always put my brother and I before herself. Being a single mom with two young boys, she really felt like that was the only option. But that’s the type of woman she is. She would prefer to give to us than to herself. In fact, now that we’re older, she’s still giving to us whenever we can. I try to stop her but she always manages to sneak some food home with me after I visit.
T: How about when you came out? Did she react like your character’s mother?
R: That situation is a little different. My coming out to my mom was a complicated endeavour. It was actually accidental. I had been sneaking around with this older boy and it was probably the first time I had really lied to her about who I was hanging out. She interrogated me one day when things didn’t add up and her questions came so quickly one right after the next, I didn’t have time to talk my way out of the inevitable. At the time her biggest fear was that I was on drugs. When it did come out, she was in shock, she had no idea. At least that’s what she said. I still believe she was just being kind.
T: And how did she react? Was their acceptance right away?
R: She was really good about telling me that she understood that it wasn’t a “choice” but it was still a big shock to her. She reminded me that she loved me she just didn’t know how she would adapt her mind. After all, as a mother she had envisioned me getting married and having kids - and even though I reminded her that I could still have those things, it was still not quite the picture she had in her mind. In the end, it took some time but she’s come a long way. In fact, we’re a lot closer now then we’ve ever really been.
T: Do you think that has anything to do with you coming out to her?
R: Certainly. She knows who I am. If she has a bit of gossip she’ll share it with me knowing she can trust me and I am the same with her. It’s great to know that she’s my number one supporter.
T: How about your father?
R: He’s a bit of a different story. When I was young, I held a lot of resentment for him. Actually to go back to the beginning, I really looked up to him. When he left us, well I felt betrayed. I also took my mom’s side completely. He was now the enemy and I made things difficult for him whenever possible. I remember one Friday he had come to pick us up for the weekend and I DID NOT want to go. I ran into the hills behind my house and hid for what felt like hours and watched his car sit parked out front of my house. It wasn’t until I started feeling guilty that my mom wasn’t getting to enjoy her evening that I climbed down to go back.
T: How did he react?
R: He was certainly patient. I might have only been in those hills for like fifteen minutes but in my mind it was longer. Regardless of how he acted towards us, to everyone else he was extremely proud. He would boast to others how smart I was and how talented of an athlete my brother was. My dad however was a musician. Every chance he got he picked up his guitar for an impromptu jam session and would sing country-western until my ears bleed. Don’t get me wrong, he’s a talented musician and a great singer, but when your a teenager and pop/rock is popular the last thing you want your dad to do is embarrass you by singing Dwight Yokum with more honky-tonk twang than Dwight could.
T: How are things now that you’re older?
R: Things are.... better? I think. There is still a part of me that is angry. But another part of me has just let go. He’s my father and when he wants to he can try. He’s still proud as hell about me.
T: How did he take you coming out to him?
R: The funny thing is, I never did. He and I never discussed girls or anything like that. Maybe he just knew, but when I was young, very young, I have distinct memories of him making extremely homophobic remarks and after the whole angry adolescent phase I decided that he didn’t deserve to know the real me. Truth is, I was afraid. Even though I was angry with him, I didn’t want to disappoint him. But my sexuality was far from a secret and since the community we come from is rather small I’m surprised it took him as long to find out as it did. He made a passing comment one time after a few too many beers but it wasn’t directly connected to me being gay. A few months later he was offering his queen size bed for me and my girl-best-friend instead of us having the two singles. It wasn’t until I had moved away that I heard about one Thanksgiving dinner at one of my Aunt & Uncles place that, after a few too many glasses of red wine, he announced that he knew about my homosexuality, in fact he was the first to ever know.
T: What was the reaction of the audience?
R: Heh Heh. You mean my family? Well he didn’t say it in a homophobic tone, in fact, it was him boasting with pride, I think, like he always had when talking about me. Everyone else just nodded along because it’s usually the best thing to do with my dad. Most of them had already known that I liked guys but they smiled and nodded anyways.
T: That’s good then.
R: It certainly is one less headache.
T: It seems your parents are a bit more “normal” than those in your story.
R: The parents in my story are more eccentric. I think my mom is what a mother, a parent should be like. Hopefully when the time comes and I have the chance to raise a kid, I do so with the same loving conviction she had. The ones in my story really just got lucky most of the time whereas my mom really put in the work but I like to think it didn’t go undeserving. After all she did raise this amazing young author. Heh heh.
T: She certainly did! And the father in the story was far more destructive than yours.
R: Well the father in my story simply did not care, I don’t believe my father ever felt like that. He loved my brother and I just did not always make the smartest decisions when it came to demonstrating that. But unlike the story, his intentions were not with malice.
T: Sounds like a pretty typical childhood.
R: At times. Haha. But what is typical these days anyways.
I will have more from my conversation with Ryan in a few days.
To see a list of the days click here.