Birthday wrap-up

I woke up “late” this morning. I had today off and went to the Minnesota State Fair with one of my best friend Jesse, whom I love to pieces. He always manages to get me to smile and laugh. The fair was fun though now I’m realizing that I got a *lot* more sun than I realized. I’ve not had much real “in the sun” time this year and the end of August sun is still strong enough to have given me a burned head and arms. It’s not a major burn, but enough for me to definately know that I got a bit too much sun.

Jesse and I got back to the apartment around 6:30 and hung out for a while. I had joked with Jesse and with Chris as well that Dad had called me at about 10:15 this morning to wish me a happy birthday and my previous LJ entry had quite a number of comments, but that I’d not heard from my mom. Those of you who have read this blog long enough know that the relations between my mother and myself are not the best. Today is no exception. Nothing. No phone call, no card, no nothing. I am not surprised, but at the same time, it’s one of those points of depression that you just can’t dull.

I suppose it will get easier in the coming months and years as I’ve decided that I shouldn’t be worrying myself with her even if she is my mother. I’ve learned just how true the gay family is truly the family that we are lucky enough to chose and also who chooses us. Over the years, Dad and I have gotten closer and he’s even asked about my boyfriend at the time. I never thought that Dad would get that far. I know he’s not entirely comfortable with my being gay, but he still loves me, I know he’s there for me, and that’s the most important thing.

In some odd ways, the pain of being estranged or cut off from our own family as gay members of society is a mixed blessing. I have a few of my friends who I hold as near and dear to me as my parents, and two extremely dear friends who I’ve come to think of as my “Northern Parents”. They listen, they advise, they help out, and they are just who they are. No pretense, no bullshit, here it is and this is how it is.

In some ways, I think my life is richer and more complete with my Dad and step-mom and my “Northern Parents” than it was with my mom in the picture. Scratch that, I know it is a better life. I just wish it could take away the pain at knowing that my own mother, who gave birth to me, can’t or won’t be a mother to me.

I know I should be focused on the positives and for the most part I am, but like I said, it’s an awkward pain that won’t go away and hurts in ways I don’t understand.