When my uncle died my father found, among other things, packages of opened Christmas cookies from my mom, stacked and dated through the years in my uncle's kitchen. At Christmas time my mom would put together a variety of Christmas cookies she'd made. I can't remember them all, but there was a recipe from her mother: almond cookies; those pecan ones rolled in powdered sugar; maybe some cocoa balls; and certainly sugar cookies in Christmas shapes. She'd place them on festive paper plates, slip them in a baggy with a twist tie, attach a note saying "Merry Christmas 1976!" I have tried to copy this tradition with varying success. This year I managed to make almond cookies. I doubled the recipe and made almost 12 dozen. The plate thing wasn't working for me, the cookies would slide all to one side. So I stuck them in ziploc bags with a paper napkin and wrote on the bag with permanent ink pens. I still ran out of cookies.
It wasn't just the cookies my dad found. Uncle B hadn't called in a few days. His phone was busy. He used to call after a few drinks and talk to my dad in the evenings. The landlord opened the door for Dad, which is how they found my uncle. No one in the family had seen the apartment in a while. We'd always seen him at his ophthalmologist's office or at our house. I suppose we imagined that as a bachelor my uncle's apartment wasn't fit to entertain. That turned out to be putting it mildly. The apartment looked like that of a hoarder, except it was more than likely just the combination of a gay, alcoholic, bachelor who didn't have the energy to deal with his life. Stacks of newspapers up to the knees filled the place. That is the image that remains in my mind from what my father told me. I imagine there were trash and other things piled up. There must have been pathways connecting the rooms. There were a variety of bottles of alcohol, wines and liquors, clearly gifts from grateful patients. (They later sat in our basement and as teens we unwittingly gulped down bottles of $100 champagne.)
Gay. Alcoholic. Bachelor (as far as we knew). Are those nouns or adjectives? How do you define a man? First and foremost he was a beloved uncle, brother, son. He was only 50 and his parents were still alive. Imagine how it feels to outlive your son. As children we loved to visit his office to get our eyes checked. We sat in the waiting room, leafing through stacks of "Highlights" magazines for children with fun puzzles and stories. I felt proud that our uncle was the doctor. Soon before he died, we presume from drinking, I remember him joining us for a family meal. My mother's divorced sister was there and there was some speculation that they'd get together. Or maybe that was another time. Did none of us suspect he was gay? We kids certainly didn't. What I remember distinctly was that blood trickled down the side of his face. From his ear? That part isn't clear.
Was it being gay, being ashamed, that drove him to drink? Or an unlucky inheritance from his gene pool? He was certainly loved. Early pictures show him with a friend, a veteran Broadway actor dining at his parents' home. They remained friends through the years. Nobody seemed to question. Gammy used to say how she was crazy about all her boys (my dad and his three brothers) and their friends.
Our ten year old daughter is transgender. People question our decision to "allow" our child to transition, that is, letting her live as a girl even though she is biologically male. "Isn't she too young to know" they ask. Some scientific data indicates that gender identity may be formed through a hormone wash in the womb. In that case, why wouldn't you know, from the time you could speak, who you were? More importantly, the children who are suppressed, unaccepted by family, even banished, have a high suicide rate, are more likely to run away, turn to street drugs and prostitution. And alcohol. It's not really a decision. We'd rather a happy girl then a dead boy. Would my uncle still be alive today had he lived in a more open times for gays, lesbians and transgender people?
Just curious, can you give a reference to the science that says there is a hormone wash in the womb. Thanks.
ReplyDeleteI have been asked about the science of a hormone wash in the brain. I might find more links, but here's what I found. In Foetal testosterone and the child systemizing quotient they discuss animal models:
ReplyDelete"In animal models, the critical period for sexual differentiation of the brain occurs when the differences in serum testosterone between sexes are highest (4). Studies reveal that the greatest sex differences in foetal testosterone (fT) levels are detectable between weeks 14 and 16 of gestation (5)....Finegan, Bartleman and Wong (6) proposed that the amniotic fluid, obtained from routine amniocentesis, could be used to measure prenatal hormone levels during the critical period for sexual differentiation of the brain; the variation in prenatal hormone levels could then be linked to later development of cognition and behaviour."
Also, at Brain Development, Postnatal - M-Z
Studies of male fetus: a hormonal wash physically alters the male fetus’s brain and masculinizes it to produce male sexual behavior. It also creates many of the typical differences seen between the sexes, like girls’ superiority at speech and boys’ at spatial tasks. (Carter, Rita, Ed. Mapping the Mind. CA: University of California Press, 1998, p
I do know that while some transgender children become disturbed by their changing bodies at onset of puberty, many children insist on a different gender identity than their biological gender assigned at birth as soon as they can speak.