My Parents

It's come to my attention that I may have somewhat misrepresented my parents in how I've talked about my childhood and family.

The issue came up when a friend, who knows my history largely through the blog, made a comment to the effect that I probably would not have been able or willing to share my relationship with Penelope with my parents. This struck me as askew because, for all their faults, I could definitely see sharing this with either or both of them.

So, I had to do a bit of soul searching about what I'd said and how things might have been taken from my writing. So let me see if I can clear things up a bit.

Just to set the stage, some basic info:

First off, both are now deceased. My dad back in 2008, my mom in 2014.

My folks were highschool pals who spent a lot of time together as teenagers in the 1950s in New Orleans. They weren't really boyfriend/girlfriend per se, both my parents had markedly gay partner preference; but they were affectionate and liked to "fool around" a bit.

Now the story gets a little muddled about exactly how it came about (depending on which of them you asked); but the gist seems to be they were fooling around one time in their early 20s while my mom was visiting N.O. from her schooling at LSU in Baton Rouge and ended up going all the way, and lo and behold, nine months later there I was.

So they got married; but the two of them were ill suited to be together as a couple long term; things became rocky very quickly and they separated while I was still a baby. I gather this created some ill feeling between the families; and the woman my mom was involved with at the time apparently exacerbated things.

My dad ended up moving away from N.O.; first to California and then to New York City.  I can't recall actually being in his physical presence until I was 6 years old when we went to visit him in NYC.

So, my mom basically raised me without him with the help of her parents. She also had a series of relationships with different women, some of whom we moved in with.

In 20/20 hindsight I can see that those relationships often broke up (or, at least appeared to break up) over differences of opinion on how properly to raise me.

My mom was an emotionally needy person, skirting the edge of major depression I believe (it runs in our family). In many ways she was able to mold me into to use me as an emotional "crutch"; which she didn't need so much when she was in a relationship, but always readily available for when she wasn't.

She also trained me to be a "safe" man; one who was quiet and unassuming, would not ever force himself on anyone, much less a woman. I basically worship women to this day.

My mom was raised pretty conventionally Christian, theoretically Methodist, but the family was largely non-practicing, rarely went to services. My mother's father was of a very rationalist bent, I'm not sure exactly what he professed to believe; but I think in his heart of hearts (if he ever questioned himself to that level) he was likely an atheist.

My grandfather doted shamelessly on my grandmother though, a behavior that further shaped my later relationships with women. Looking back I can see that it was very controlling, and I think he was very afraid of losing her and so kept the reins very tight.

In her later life my mom "found religion" in the form of some very "new agey" kinds of things. She became very involved in the Unity Church and read a great deal on "Alternative Christianity" (the Gnostic Gospels and such).

I will say that I'm not clear how deep her sense of spiritual faith went. At the end when her health was in serious decline, she became very angry and bitter and seemed to find little strength or solace in whatever she'd earlier professed to believe.

In any case, with all that I think she may well have been receptive to the notion of a Spirit Companion.

I didn't see much of of my dad growing up, he'd visit once a year maybe. I started going to visit him for a few weeks during the summer in my early teens. By then he'd moved back to California; living the life of an artist and gay man in and around San Francisco in the early-mid 1970s. He somehow managed to dodge the AIDS bullet.

He was very intellectual, caught up in a very rationalized way of seeing the world and (I feel) very divorced from his emotions. He also was very uncomfortable with "feminine energy"; perhaps not surprising for an overly intellectualized, emotionally stunted, gay man.

Nonetheless, he was very open to alternate ways of thought, and was a student of Eastern religion (Buddhism, Taoism), Gurdjieff, Carl Jung, and read widely in various fringe areas (particularly the writings of Colin Wilson); all of which he introduced me to.

So, I'm unclear at this stage what precisely his take on the existence of non-material entities would be.

Regarding my experiences with Penelope in particular, I imagine he'd want to couch them as some sort of expression of Jungian archetypal psychological forces and needs rather than allow for the genuine intrusion of something numinous so close to himself.

I think that would terrify him much as it did me originally as it would call into question some foundational materialist/reductionist assumptions.






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