I haven’t spoken to my father in four months. I sent him my blog post “To Whom It May Concern” via text, and I received a response telling me I was lost. Then, I sent him a package, and I heard nothing. So now, after four months of not hearing his voice, I receive a call and this voicemail:

“Hey, son. It’s, uh, dad. I haven’t talked to you in a long time, and I just wanted to give you a call and check in on you. And, uh, I hope you are doing well. Love you, and I’ll talk to you later.”

I honestly don’t know how I want to respond. I don’t. So, I have come up with a few different options.

Version 1:

A Very Bad Idea

Hey, thanks for calling. Honestly, it shows you are making some kind of effort to speak to me while I spew fire and brimstone atop a throne of dildos. Is brimstone even spewable? Meh, don’t care. I am spewing it.

Hold on . . .

. . . Sorry, the Christians in the other room were getting really loud. They were crying about being forced to read through the worldwide gay agenda put forth by those gays.

Ha, silly Christians.

So, anyway, what did you want to talk about?

Version 2:

Snarky with a Side of Snark

Thanks for calling. I hope you are well. I heard about the new job and new house. Congrats. Really.

I know it has been awhile since we have caught up. Four months, to be exact. So, let me fill you in.

So, let’s see, the big things.

Well, I am sure you heard that I moved. It’s a great place. Big open space. I have a garage and a washer and dryer. Nice walk-in closet and a great kitchen. My furniture I have, which consists of a bed, a futon, and a bookshelf, looks so small in this new place. Before, those three things filled up my entire old apartment. I haven’t bought much for the new place. Just a rug and a grill. I was hoping to have a little more money at the moment, but when I switched bank accounts that I used, my last apartment and I had quite the falling out over an error with their system. I lodged a complaint. It was a whole mess, but it is over now.

You might be wondering why I changed my bank account. Look, I will just be honest. I didn’t feel comfortable with someone having access to my account that thinks I am either a) mentally ill or b) possessed or having something to do with the devil and/or demons.

I hope you can understand.

So, anyway, I have been trying to stay politically involved. You know, part of the resistance and all that. So, I have been doing what I can with the ACLU and the Human Rights Campaign. I participated in a fundraiser for the Transgender Resource Center of New Mexico. I have also been participating in a six-week course on bullying put on by Equality New Mexico and several other groups. I was at the Women’s March, the Tax March, and the March for Science, and it was amazing to see how many people were standing up for what is right and good in this country. I’ve been staying active on Twitter and Change.org trying to help keep this new level of corrupt and ill-fated government accountable to the Constitution and equal rights and the environment. I have also been contacting my congressional leaders and speaking out against what has been going on. It’s been nice being involved. Surely, you can even admit that the new administration is an embarrassment.

But, let’s not get too far into politics. I’d like this to be as civil as possible.

I just wanted to fill you in on what I have been up to in the last four months.

Let’s see.

What else . . .

It sucked being uninvited to my brother’s graduation. He just didn’t want it to be an issue with me there. And I get it, I do. Because, if someone said something stupid about transpeople or immigrants or some other backward and idiotic comment, I would not have been able to keep my mouth shut. It probably would have caused a whole scene, and one of the stipulations for me being there was that if something was said, I was to keep my mouth shut. That . . . well, it was a bridge too far for me to take.

Anyway, I have been rambling . . .

Is there anything you wanted to talk about?

Version 3:

The Only Viable Option

Thanks for calling to check in. I hope you can understand that I don’t feel like talking right now. But, things are going pretty well. I hope you have been well, too. Love you.

Version 4:

A Plea for Change

Thanks for calling to check in. I hope you are well. But, here’s the thing. I said exactly what I needed to say when I sent that text to you and again when I mailed you that package. And, until you come to terms with what it means, there really isn’t anything else to say. What is happening in this country right now . . . well, it is bigger than you and me. I wish you the best. Love you.

Version 5:

Defeated

Thanks for calling. But, honestly, with what you think of me, why bother?

Version 6:

Anger and Disappointment

Thanks for calling. But, I just want to know, and I want your honest opinion. Where do we go from here? Because, right now, we are at an impasse, and I can promise you this. As long as you hold to your view about LGBT people, myself included, we are never going to be okay. That, I can promise. So, I am asking, where do we go from here?

*          *          *          *          *

But, in the end, I went with none of these options. As I was driving to Santa Fe for the last of the Beyond Bullying workshops, I called his number, and he picked up. And for the first time in four months, we had a conversation. A ten minute conversation.

It was civil and caring, and it avoided any “controversial” topics.

What it means . . . I honestly don’t know.

But, it was something.

Maybe, eventually, that something will be enough.

Because, when he ended the conversation with “I miss you,” my response was “Take care.” I miss the person, the parent, I thought he was, and maybe, just maybe, he will come around and be the parent I need him to be.

Maybe.

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