Sunday, 13 March 2011
It's 2011, right?
At the end of the afternoon I exercised my parents' dog in a countryside basking in March sunlight. I phoned my friend Dawn, after last night's support group meeting she looked so sad when everyone went their separate ways so I wanted to see all was well with her world.
About a week ago a friend of Dawn's died of a heart attack. Some of you might also have known her personally but I only encountered her online. She was a very spirited lady of advancing years whose very late transition gave hope to all of us younger people who have no route forward.
When I rang, I found Dawn upset. She had been told that the family are insisting on having her friend's funeral conducted and having her buried as her former male self. She spent a lifetime escaping the bloke, and having achieved her aim her family are to go against her wishes in death.
This is 2011, right?
As I stood talking to Dawn this tree was in front of me, lit starkly by the sun as it fell towards the horizon. I know what it will remind me of every time I pass it from now on.