- Mostly he tried to stay true to himself. After divorcing my mother he went on to foster two long-term life partners. Ironically both were named Jim. He felt strongly about social causes, read intensely about the Holocaust, stating adamantly, we should never forget. In Palm Springs he helped open one of the first gay hotels and for years delivered Thanksgiving turkeys to AIDS patients. His grandkids, now in high school, speak openly about social justice. Dad said he didn’t want them to feel sorry for him but encouraged them to speak up. Said if they did people would listen.
- To share the depths of my dad will help you know him, instead of simply labeling him a gay man.
- Committed to his catholic faith Dad was a religious man no matter the judgment of his sexual orientation. He grew up catholic and refused to leave.
- His words, he had ‘Champagne tastes on a beer budget.’ Thrifty and very much a nest builder his homes were beautiful, impeccably decorated. All was accomplished hunting for deals, negotiating, and purchasing décor on consignment.
- He was a salesman thru and thru, but admitted it was more about wanting a competitive edge. He wanted to win.
- He survived by staying positive and forever reinvented himself. Though his dream was to be in advertising he had a knack for creating something out of nothing. He sold retail fashion, was a retail buyer, a construction hand, an insurance salesman, a waiter (once serving Elizabeth Taylor), restaurant manager, hotel manager, consignment sales, interior designer for vacation homes in the Palm Springs area. More than once we referred to Dad as a cat with 9 lives. He lived 10 years being HIV positive while virtually taking no medication, that is, until he had to. He survived bladder cancer and open-heart surgery, even when the heart lung machine malfunctioned. He had to be inverted and brought to freezing temps before bringing him back. True story!
- An animal lover he soaked up unconditional love from dogs, cats, even a skunk he rescued. I have a hunch they may have even served as the children he couldn’t have live with him.
- A drinker he started daily around 5. He wanted to be the life of every party, tell stories, dance, and soothe all that ached inside. All was fun until it was too much, then he was sad — at times even emotional. Another vice was cigarettes. He had an intense relationship with them, drew them in deeply, meditatively. While doing so he became lost in thought, quietly reviewing things he couldn’t share but were with him daily.
- He loved his grandmothers because they soothed him like a mother would. His mother on the other hand was his best friend. She understood him, never questioned him…never judged.
- Most of my life he stayed away for months at a time living a separate life. Sometimes I felt I hardly knew him, yet in a moment of reconnecting he was his chipper bright self seconds into our call. He became more critical the older he got, shared more because he blurred the lines of parent and friend. Underneath I think it was about fear, and a life of being criticized indirectly for his sexual orientation — his cup run-ith over.
- I think he felt he had to be tougher, had to prove himself because he was a gay man. He said he never thought of telling us kids he was gay – didn’t think it was our business. He said if nothing came of my writing, my story, the process was so good for me.
- He loved Mother Teresa. His favorite quote was: If you can’t feed a hundred people, then feed just one.
Okay, within this dozen set of thoughts are at least a dozen more reasons I want to remember my dad. They better illustrate what goes on in a gay mans life, the trials, the tribulations. What I lived through as his daughter: proud, funny, sad, disappointing moments all molded me into who I am.
