sistawendy | twenty years gone

Today is the twentieth anniversary of my father's death. There are a few unanswerable questions about him that I'll have for the rest of my life.

What would he have thought of my transition? I've asked my mother this on a few occasions. She thinks he would have been OK with it, provided his father, the source of much patriarchal bullpuckey, were no longer living. Since Papá passed away in 1989, that wouldn't have been a problem. And my father was the only member of my immediate family to say to me that he wasn't quite as cisgender as he seemed. He's also a man who believed in doing what you believe in.

What would he have thought of my career? I know he expected great things from me that I never delivered, but he had too much grace to express any disappointment as long as I was happy. I hope I can live up to that standard with my son.

Speaking of my son, what would he have thought of the Wendling? Whining and general punkitude really didn't sit well with Dad, even less so than with me. But I like to think he could have related to the struggles of a boy who wasn't a born student like me & my mother.

I was talking with Good Sister about him last week. Not a day goes by when something doesn't remind us of him. (Before Evil Sister stopped speaking to me, she expressed surprise at this phenomenon. More evidence that the woman has no soul.)

I never got to turn him on to kim chee, or tell him about my circumflatulation projects, or take him to Mt. Rainier. (Dad was outdoorsy as a young man, before his health failed.) Moral: you only get so much time with your parents. Don't waste it.