12 Closing

DEAR CHILDREN Georgia On My Mind

CHAPTER 8
Georgia On My Mind

I was never one for religion since my
childhood life was not religious at all, so
it seems unusual that I would attend - and
LOVE - a Marriage Encounter Weekend. This is a
weekend where husband and wife leave their home
for a Friday night through Sunday night and attend
a series of writing love letters back and forth on
topics chosen by the official Marriage Encounter

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leaders, who are members of the clergy. We were
encountered March 1-3, 1986, and love the idea of
writing letters back and forth to each other,
although we don't do it as much as we used to, and
sometimes as much as we should.

Different denominations of religious faith
conduct marriage encounters, so it's not just
Presbyterian, as Mom and I have been baptized. It
is an internationally recognized organization,
designed to make good marriages BETTER. They
stressed that it is NOT to patch up deteriorating
marriages.

The letters we wrote hack and forth were really
love letters, letters about our feelings on different
subjects. They taught us that feelings are neither
right nor wrong, so that encouraged us to write
WHAT WE FELT. I knew this was going to be a
highly emotional weekend. Thank you, Howard
and Beth! (They are the ones who introduced us to
the weekend)

This section is primarily my feelings about

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your mom, whom I love more than life itself. I
want to share some of these feelings in this letter,
because it exemplifies my feelings not only about
your mother, but about life in general. What you
read will he letters edited to be printed here; not in
content, but from "first person" to generalizations.

Why did I go there, and what did I hope to
gain? Well, when I was first approached with the
idea of attending a marriage encounter, my first
reaction was one of protest. I protested the idea
with the thought, "What's wrong with our
marriage?!" For many years, I had taken Mom and
our marriage for granted and had become very
secure in our relationship. I enjoy that security.
But I realized, too, that alt relationships have their
pitfalls. I came to realize ours did too. It always
will. It's something that is human nature. I came
to realize why I came that weekend. I wanted a
deeper look at Mom, our relationship. and myself.
I wanted to prove to Mom and myself that I can be
as sensitive and loving to her as I am to others.

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I had hoped to gain more awareness of our
relationship and locus on that awareness. Over 20
years ago, when I first laid eyes on your mother, I
knew - right then - it was meant to be. I wanted
to recapture - if only in my own mind - those
memories that were so tender, so fun, so real. I've
never stopped loving Mom and I never will. I
wanted to regain myself - my inner being -- and
my passion as we once knew.

We were asked about ourselves: Asked for
descriptions. I see myself as a person who enjoys
friendships and finds pleasure in helping and doing
for others. I feel badly that I don't do for my
family what at times I do for friends. I am choosy
about my friends, and tend to cultivate friendships
on my terms. I hate myself for this "shopping"
around only for the kind of people I want to be
friends with. I am sad and embarrassed that so
many times I had put off helping you, Scott, build
the model of the Space Shuttle.

I am open minded, and a good listener, and

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make others feel comfortable around me. I enjoy
making new friends, and this friendly feeling is
usually reciprocal. I have a positive outlook on
most of the things I do. I feel comfortable saying
this, because it's a relaxed feeling and one that can
easily be accepted by others. I am generous and
will do or give to and for others, sometimes
sacrificing my own melt in one way or another. I
am well respected by my peers and superiors. I am
dependable, I am sincere, I am loving. If I had a
license I would be named Lassie.

I am choosy and sometimes moody. I feel a
low self esteem when I admit this, and I sometimes
feel inadequate and unworthy. I hurt when I do
for others and get nothing, sometimes not even a
thank you. in return. I expect too much and I feel
angry as I write about it. I feel I should get more
in return than I do. I am impatient at times with
you children, and get upset when things don't go
my way. I am too loud at times, and talk too
much, and feel embarrassed when asked to stay

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low key. It infuriates me that I can't be more low
key than I am. I expect others to treat me the way
I treat them, and become disappointed when they
don't.

I have several "masks". One is that of being
"Mr. Nice Guy" and "Mr. Know-It-All" I'm not
always nice, and I don't know it all. I also wear a
mask of "Mr. Showoff". I want people to like me,
and respect me, so I tend to be a bit ostentatious,
but in reality and in my heart, I am humble and
ache to be well liked and admired. 1 sometimes
take too many things and too many people for
granted. I feel sad when I do this because it's not
the way it should be. I feel hurt when I think
others don't like me, and I am offended by what
others may say and think of me, and tend to blow
things out of proportion and see things as I
perceive, and not how they really are.

The many years your mother and I have spent
together have had many disillusions for both of us,
probably because of the many years, and more

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than likely our taking each other for granted,
which causes our indifference towards each other.
And while it isn't intentional, it still exists, and
although I don't always show it, it bothers me,
because I know I can do better. I feel badly when
Mom tries to be sensitive to my thoughts and
feelings and problems, and I don't respond as I
should. I avoid confrontations thinking that they
are not healthy, but they are, because
confrontations tend to pull people apart, and that
makes me feel lonely. It can create that sadness
that can cause marriages to crumble. Your mother
deserves better than me when it comes to love,
affection and courtesy. I have tried to rationalize
my lack of concern by offering to do materialistic
things in place of affection. How selfish. How
unlike my basic make-up. I have come to realize
how many escapes I have had, to avoid
confrontation, to avoid love, to avoid fatherly and
husbandly responsibilities. Sometimes I have felt
like walking out - not for my peace of mind - but

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for Mom's and yours, so you wouldn't have to put
up with me and my ways anymore. But then I
figure I'll punish you guys - - and STAY. (Joke,
Scott!)

You know, this world is full of "I should
have's..." and provided that Mom dies first, I'm
gonna say, "I should have cared more" or "I
should have been more attentive."

Foremost, I would say, I should have
physically loved her more. I should have had sex
more and really show I do care."

How do I feel realizing that Mom loves me and
has committed herself to loving me for a lifetime?
I feet so contented knowing she loves me the way
she does. Sometimes I feel like a kid - like I did
over 30 years ago when I first went to Disneyland -
not a care in the world -a real "yellow and orange"
- warm and bright - feeling. The commitment she
made to be so long ago makes me feel so very
special -like I've been put on a pedestal at times,
with people staring at me saying. "Look how great

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he looks!"
The time we have spent together has become

somewhat routine, I know, but after all these years,
I still smile when I think of Mom - and I always do
- and I feel so lucky that we chose each other to
love.

People who know me know this. Mom
knows, too.

Some of the feelings I have found it most
difficult to share with Mom were those of
inadequacy, which are overwhelming. I feel so
helpless at times, and I so often have felt that I
have failed her as a husband and you children not
just as a father, but a dad. There is a difference. I
feel so stifled - like being put into a wooden barrel
covered with cloth on the top and thrown out to
sea. I've envisioned that feeling many times
before in dreams and in thought.

My feelings as a failure tend to dominate my
thoughts from time to time, and I become very fed
up with myself. My feelings of failure can best be

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described as a falling into a sand pit, trying to
climb out, only to reach the top and have all the
sand dull from beneath my feet. I want to cry. I
get lonely at times, even when lying right beside
your mother. I feel like calling out her name and
just having the words echo as if shouted down a
canyon. It's a feeling of helplessness, like a long
continuous fall. It's like a bad dream.

I find it difficult to share and express my
everyday feelings for fear they won't be
understood. I feel embarrassed, and turn red
thinking about it. I feel flushed - like a low blood
sugar reaction that only candy bar can fix. And
as if by magic, there she is: My own personal
candy bar to make it okay. . and she always does.
She's my own little sweetie.

During the encounter weekend, we were asked
to describe our feelings of death, and how it may
affect our spouse. This was a tough one.

Throughout the natural course of one's life, the
thought of ENDNIG that life probably crosses

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one's mind more than once. I could easily say that
I want to go on living so we could always love one
another, your mom and I, and while that is true, it's
a cop out answer. This takes a lot of thought. as
you can well imagine. Before I cam give my
reasons for wanting to go on living, I feel it only
fair to share my thoughts about dying.

For many many years, long before I set Mom,
my health had always been a major concern. I
often wondered, and still do, why I was "selected"
to have a lifelong potentially crippling, if not
lethal, disease. There have been many times that
dying would have been the easy way out. Those
times in the past few years when I had seemingly
major concerns - my eyes, my infections. I didn't
really want to die, but I felt that when I shared
them with Mom, she was concerned, and she was
there, but somehow, it just wasn't enough. I don't
know what I was looking for or what I needed, but
I just didn't feel fulfilled. I felt somewhat
confined. I feel that I have been critical of Mom's

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concerns, and I didn't mean to, but these are
exercises in feelings, so I have to say how I feel.

When these crises came up, I felt as though -
SOMETIMES, NOT ALWAYS -that I was simply
being appeased at the time, and perhaps Mom had
thought, "He'll get over it." My health is
something I don't get over.

I don't have a fear of dying, I have a fear of
you children and Mom living without me. I want
to be there. I want to be involved. I want my
nose in your business. I want to be there when
Katie and Mom are at each others throats so I can
jump in and stop your nonsensical arguments. I
want to put Scott's model together. I want to go to
your high school graduations. I long for the day
that Katie comes to me and say, "Dad, 'so and so'
has asked me to marry him, and I've said yes"'. I
hurt deeply to think I may not see those days.
And because of my health, I may not. If my
health is a contributing factor to my death, I'll die
knowing I did the best I could as my children's

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father, and as your mother's husband. I want to
continue my life so Mom and I can watch you
children grow as we have grown. Should I lose my
sight, my hearing, my ability to function as what is
considered normal, I'm sure I will feel the desire to
die. But like that candy bar during a low blood
sugar reaction, you guys will be there to make it all
right.

Once my life has ended, for me there is no
more. I won't know the difference. But I want to
- I MUST go on for the three of you, for all those
who know and love me, and to prove I'm doing the
best I can do to enrich the lives of those I know
and love.

Part of a song runs through my mind every
now and then:

"Happiness without an end; I feel alive again
Suddenly I can not even remember when
We were alone, on our own for no long
But it's all behind us.”

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It reminds me of Mom, and sometimes the
thought of you three reminds me of an old antique
car - how romantic - as long as I treat you all right,
maybe kick your tires now and then, you're going
to be there when I need you. Life without you,
my children, and your mother, would be no life at
all.

Let me tell you a little story about what
happened right before I first met Mom: When I
first opened the greeting card (I think it was a
Christmas card) so many years ago signed
"Georg", I thought. "Whoever 'Georg' is doesn't
even know how to spell his name. Where's the
"E" at the end?" After finding out later that it was
Mom. I thought. "Swell. Just what I need. A high
school crush." After all, I was nearly 20, and felt it
a little beneath me to get involved in a crush
situation, cause I sure didn't have one on her.
Don't get me wrong. It's not that I didn't like her,
it's just that I didn't move in as quickly as she did.

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I remember sitting at those dumb cubical desks at
the May Go. collection department, and while
others were working. I would sit there thinking
about the pushy girl who gave me a card signed
incorrectly with a man's name. It makes me
chuckle every time I think about it.

I remember asking a mutual friend, Loraine
McCarthy, if Georgia had been losing weight. She
said, "yes, she likes you and is trying to look good
for you." I was dumb founded. "Me!" I thought;
"Why??!!" I wasn't anything so special. I
certainly wasn't the most handsome specimen of a
person. Sure, I had a good personality, but lots of
people do. But then, lots of people are toads. Ask
Mom sometime to tell you about Phil Durante and
Leo Diamond.

I realized then, how special a person SHE was
to be so concerned about me - to want to make
herself attractive to me. I was very humbled. was
very happy. I was VERY flattered. She has asked
me more than once why I picked her. Could she

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have ever realized that I thought the same thing?
I'd never considered myself so special that girls
flock to my door. I was just "there." I was never a
jock, never a lady killer - just "there." So. Why
did I chose Mom? I saw through and beyond her
exterior for the person she really was, and is. I
was attracted to her warmth, her personality -
which I thought a bit outgoing - and her sensitivity.

After all these years, how can she help me
specifically? She needs to understand my feelings
on religion and the church, and why I have chosen
not to attend as I used to. I think that when we
first discussed it, she was mad, hurt, defensive. I
was angry that she didn't understand, nor seem to
want to. I feel it was selfish on her part. Yet a
few days after - perhaps alter thinking about it, or
just giving in - I don't know which - she seemed to
accept my decision more. I've explained my
reasons, in that I don't have the religious
involvement nor interest that she does, and after 40
years, not knowing what to believe, I can't see a

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change in the future. I feel my reasons are sound,
adult, and well thought out. I feel it is very
hypocritical to wear that "mask" knowing FULL
WELL, what's behind that mask. I used to think
that people who go to church only on Easter and
Christmas were the hypocrites. NOT SO! These
are the times when these people NEED the
involvement of the church and what it has to offer.
I think it's hypocritical to go every Sunday just for
show, when I get little or nothing out of it. I
respect deeply those people who go for their desire
and needs for spiritual involvement. I desperately
want you children to get the religious upbringing
that I missed - yet at the same time ask that my
desires and reasons be understood, too.

I felt so much more vibrant after our Marriage
Encounter weekend. It was truly a weekend just
for the two of us. I have shared my feelings with
a few people at work, and felt so proud that I
showed the enthusiasm I did. I had to hold myself
hack from telling everything about the weekend, in

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case someone wanted to go, cause you’re not
supposed to say anything about it. But I sure had a
time telling about our weekend together.

Throughout our married life, your mom and I
never had fights. Sure, we'd disagree but we never
fought. We never laid a hand on each other. There
was a lot of love and respect in the 30 years we
were married. We were a team when it came to
you guys in how we raised you. There were times
during your upbringing that she would take charge,
there were times I would.

Some of the best times I ever had in my life
were the years married to your mother. There were
times we would work together at the same
company which meant we were with each other
virtually 24 hours a day. Did we get on each
other's nerves? Probably. But we took vacations
together, we had fun together.

After 30 years and my coming out, we decided
that we both knew the marriage was over, and as a
cousin of mine once told me, "the greatest respect

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you can have for a marriage is to know when it's
over".

You can't wrap up nearly 50 years of an
acquaintance, a courtship, a friendship, a marriage,
a separation and a divorce, in a matter of a few
pages. Please know though, that your mother and I
still remain great friends even though we are no
longer a couple.

I hope you enjoyed getting into my mind a
little and learning about the feelings I share with
this wonderfully sensitive woman you call Mom.

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