A Story of Survival

A Story of Survival

In 1519, a man by the name of Hernando Cortez led an army across the ocean to

the land of riches. The treasure had been sought out by massive armies for nearly 600

years and defeated every single time by the Aztec Empire. Cortez spoke to his armies and

laid a vision of victory and how their lives would be once they overthrew the Aztecs.

When they reached the empire, Cortez turned to his troops and told them, “Burn the

boats”. The army watched him in horror and he told them that if they were going home,

they were going home in the Aztec’s boats. For the first time in 600 years, Cortez lead his

army to victory. The men became victorious when their escape was destroyed. They were

not only fighting for riches, but survival.

As I was growing up, my family provided the necessary tools to survive in our

world through compassion and love. However, my childhood and development was far

from society’s normal way of life. I learned of sickness, pain, and death very early. In my

teenage years, I witnessed the calm before the storm by experiencing school and

friendship. During this time of my life, I became aware of my sexuality and realized I was

gay. In this moment, everything in my life changed. Within a few short years, I would

watch as one-by-one my family members would pass away leaving me all alone to fend

for myself without love and support. I turned to my dreams and visions of the future to

overcome the fear of my own mortality. I became a changed person, more grown up and

independent than ever. The last death in my life was that of my grandma and in her

passing she taught me her last lesson. I was given the knowledge of survival and strength

to continue fighting for my future. My goals and dreams are not only for me, but for the

memory of the family for they will always be with me every step I take in the world.

My grandma taught me I am my own person, I am me, my soul and this is my journey of

survival into the future of my dreams.

In the early years of my childhood, I experienced a lot of love and support from

my family. Shortly after I was born, my parents divorced and my mom and I moved in

with my grandparents. I received attention from my mother, who was home most of the

time, and my grandma and grandpa in the evenings. We would always play card games

before I would go to bed and enjoyed hours of family time. Family bonding was very

important to my grandma and her shared values rubbed off on the rest of us in the

household. My grandma had a direct or involved relationship with me that according to

Boyd and Bee is the least common type of relationship to share among grandparents

(149). I am very thankful for the relationship I had with my grandma because she had a

positive influence on my life in the years to come.

One of the best family times of the year always occurred during Christmas. In our

house, Christmas was more than just a holiday, but a special time for our family to share

quality time together. My grandma would take time from work, I would be home from

school, and my mom worked part time at a local pasta restaurant. We would find

ourselves together by the piano as my grandma played Christmas carols and we attempted

to sing together on Christmas Eve. We would then eat a hearty meal that filled the table

with many varieties of food that permeated the air with delicious aromas.

The family bonding, delicious home-made meals, and my childhood began to

deteriorate as my mom became very ill. My childhood role disappeared as I stepped into

more of an adult position. At the age of ten, I was cooking, cleaning, and caring for my

mother who was in bed most of the time while also going to school and balancing my

daily lessons. Boyd and Bee says that people experience role conflict when

different roles call for separate behaviors and the demands accumulate to more hours in a

day (143). I was no longer able to go out and participate in childhood activities. This

caused a role conflict in my life because I was torn between taking care of my mother and

spending time with friends.

The events that began to surface with my mother’s illness increased causing not

only difficulties in my social life, but also in our family life. After I would come home

from school, I would then begin doing daily chores to help my mom and make sure she

was comfortable. In the evening, my grandma would arrive home from work and we

would eat dinner. Once super was finished, we no longer gathered as a family, but

separated ourselves from one another.

Our daily lives grew more dim even still. By the age of 12, my family was visiting

the hospital almost every night, because my mother spent more time in the facility than

out. We began having dinner in the hospital cafeteria and I would finish my school work

while sitting on the floor of a hospital room. By Christmas, my mom fell into a coma and

was moved down to Indianapolis where she would receive better care. My grandma

followed and I was left at home with my grandpa.

My life was completely different with my grandpa and I did not know it at the

time, but I would learn a new set of life experiences. A few months after my grandma and

mom left, I came home from school and found my grandpa unresponsive on the couch.

He had his eyes open, but could not seem to talk. After about an hour, I called 9-11 and

rode in the ambulance to the hospital. My grandpa had a stroke.

The new set of circumstances added more pressure and strain on our family. My

Great aunt would visit during the day while I was away in school, and in the evening, I

became the caregiver. My grandma and I spoke daily and we would cry together on the

phone not believing what we were experiencing. She would always tell me that I was a

special young man to be strong and grown up enough to be handling such difficult

realities.

During my mom’s and grandpa’s illness, fighting the urge to go outside and being

with friends, and finding a balance with responsibilities, I had another problem lingering

below the surface. In the months leading up to my mom’s coma, I began to discover my

sexuality. I learned that I had same-sex attractions and identified myself as being gay. I

fought the impulse to tell my grandma. The reason I was contemplating giving my family

a chance to be a part of my life was because I did not want to add any additional strain on

my family. I felt selfish in my thinking for wanting to explain my feelings to them.

My decision to remain silent, caused a very negative reaction in my life. I became

isolated and spent less time taking care of my family. I was resentful for being different

and not being able to spend time with my friends and I was tired of the responsibility. My

struggles lead me down a path of depression where I attempted suicide rather than tell my

family the truth. I was not sure how they would react and felt that by taking my life, I

would save them the embarrassment from having a gay child.

My mother saved my life by entering into my room in the middle of the night

giving me a second chance in life. When I woke up in the hospital unaware of anything

that happened the previous night, I was frustrated I did not succeed, but came to the

conclusion there was a reason. I still had a purpose in life and had much more to offer. I

made a decision that day to keep fighting and help others who struggle through their

childhood. I wanted to reach out at that moment in my life to everyone who I knew was

struggling in some way and offer comfort. Today, I live my life by the promise I made to

myself. I would survive and nothing would ever defeat me.

For a few shorts years following my suicide attempt, my new attitude of survival

allowed me to remain positive and in control during a rather calm point in my life. My

mom re-married, I made the decision to continue living with my grandma and grandpa,

and I went through school with top grades and a leader within my community. These

years were the most memorable and I was able to revert back slightly to my social life

among my peers. I did not know, I would be soon facing tragedy again in my life.

In the spring before I graduated high school, I had three major loses that

resulted in my decision to change my goals for the future. My great aunt, who lived next

door, great grandma, who lived down the street, and my grandpa, who lived with us, all

were diagnosed with cancer within months of each other. I was planning on going away

for college, but decided to remain home to help my grandma in caring for our family.

Together, my grandma and I made the decision to have Hospice and we essentially

became the primary care givers. In 2003, we lost all three of them in death and I found

myself comforting my grandma.

My grandma and I were both struggling to find stability in our lives, but before we

found a strong foundation, death hit us again. My mom became brain dead through lack

of oxygen and we, my step-dad, grandma, and I, made the decision to let my mom go. She

had died from complications of the illness she had many years ago at the age of 40. The

passing of my mother only became worse when six weeks later, my grandma and I

discovered my step-dad on the floor of his room dead at the age of 44 from a massive

heart attack.

The death of my parents caused my grandma to slip into major depression and her

health began to fail. We became the two musketeers supporting each other. We became

very close and I leaned on her as much as she leaned on me. A year later, my grandma

had five major organs shut down and doctors did not believe she would pull through. I

took a leave of absence from my job and stayed at the hospital 24/7 for many weeks. My

friends would come into the waiting room to bring me food and keep me company giving

me the emotional support I needed. Umberson and Chen states that only one in ten people

below the age of 25 has lost a parent and I lost all of my family with the exception of my

grandma (152).

As I sat at the hospital, I had much more support than I ever realized from very

close friends. They might not have known what I was feeling or going through at the

time, but they put forth the effort to be comforting all the same. Many spoke to me as if I

was a broken child ready to fall apart myself, but found themselves shocked by how well

put together I was. Some of my friends were concerned if I lost my grandma how I would

survive. This idea can be explained further by Umberson and Chen by claiming, “the

death of a parent appears to be a stressful life event that adversely affects the physical and

psychological well-being of adult children in the general population.” (153). Even though

I had lost both of my parents, I still had the support of my grandma who was like a second

mother to me.

The thought of losing my grandma at this time in my life scared me because I was

not ready for the event. I did not have any of the proper paperwork in place and do not

think I would have been able to cope emotionally. Thankfully, I had great friends

supporting me through the idea of losing the last of my family. I had chosen my friends

carefully and they had become like family as Boyd and Bee suggests with the statement,

“many gays and lesbians build families of choice for themselves.” (97). I had and still

have a close network of friends who have become my family.

Thankfully, my grandma pulled through her problems giving us another year to

spend time together. We decided to take action to prepare me for if something did

actually happen to her. We constructed a will, added my name to bank accounts and

spoke of her personal wishes. I struggled hearing this information, but I was very thankful

to have her back in my life I could not have been any happier.

In one of our discussions, we spoke about jobs and careers to better prepare me

for my future. I had a lot of knowledge in working in the food industry with: Shakeys, a

buffet, Fazolis, fast-food Italian, and Taco Bell, fast-food Mexican. We talked about me

attending college once again, but her health was to frail to continue at that precise

moment in time. In the end, I decided to wait a couple of years and began searching for

some additional income. I accepted a promotion through Taco Bell as an Assistant Store

Manager that helped my grandma and I financially.

The Assistant Manager position proved to be very time consuming and I did not

spend as much time with my grandma. She became depressed once again, so we planned

a trip into Chicago to see Wicked. This was going to be a very special event for both of us

because we were seeing the musical on Mother’s Day. I drove us into Chicago, carried

her down to our front row seats and we spent the evening in conversation at the Cheese

Cake Factory. As we were leaving, I picked up a little black stone and handed it to my

grandma and told her to carry the stone where ever she went and to always think about the

things she was grateful for in her life. I told her I loved her and that I was thankful she

was a part of my life.

After several wonderful months with her, I woke up one morning and found my

grandma dead on the floor in the hallway. I could not seem to catch my breath. I felt my

world crumbling around me. My thoughts dwelled heavily on being in charge of my own

mortality. “Those in the middle generation must come to terms with the fact that they

have now become the elders and are confronted directly with their own mortality” (Boyd

& Bee. P. 153). I remembered the promise I made to myself years back after trying to

commit suicide. I fought back the tears and gathered my thoughts to take action in my

life. I knew there was a lot of work to do and I knew how to do it.

Instead of focusing on my grief, I turned to the action of getting things done. The

first thing on my agenda was to prepare and plan the funeral. I did this mostly alone and

that is how I wanted it. I viewed the funeral as a last tribute to my grandma. Organizing

the funeral was one of the biggest changes of my life. I became the adult, the responsible

one and nothing stood in my way for failure or success.

In the months following the funeral of my grandma, I was faced with many life

obstacles. I took on a mortgage payment solely, added the house to for sale listings,

struggled to survive because my financial income did not meet the demand, finally selling

the house and moving out of state away from everyone and everything I ever knew to

begin my life over, and now attending school once again. All of these decisions changed

me emotionally for I grew in knowledge with every step I took.

All my life, I have been preparing for these events. When I was little, I gained

knowledge of sickness with my mother, isolation through my sexuality, strength through

my friends, love and support with my grandma and by witnessing the death of my parents

and being a part of the funeral making decision, I was able to cope with my grandma’s

death and the year that followed.

My family life was not the only variable that presented me with life experience

though. During high school and college, I was involved in many clubs, organizations, and

attended leadership camps that granted me the necessary tools to survive. Some of these

include: Student Body President, Class Officer, ITI (Indiana Teen Institute), HBS

(Hoosier Boy State), and the NYLC (National Youth Leadership Council). Everything in

my life has geared me to begin my future.

When I moved to Tennessee, I promised myself another change would occur. I

made a conscious decision to begin STITCH (Standing Together In Tolerance Changing

Humanity) to help other GLBT youth through problems in their life. In the end, I came to

the conclusion to give my life to help others. “STITCH replaces discrimination based on

sexual orientation with acceptance, tolerance, and celebration of humanities differences”

(Harper D, & Thomas G. (2009). STITCH has become the first step into attaining my

future.

My goals have changed over the years as I have grown and survived through life

events. I am finally doing something for me and I have been criticized for taking a huge

risk, but to me the entire organization is well worth the time and effort. I view this

opportunity as a new journey. I am not sure if I will fail or succeed, but I will persist

without exception.

My survival and stability through my mom’s illness into her death, the loss of all

my family and the continuation of my dreams will ultimately give me the opportunity to

help others survive through life’s restricting affairs. I learned life is fragile and worth

fighting for and that we all have the power to persevere in anything we choose to do. The

decision lies within all of us and I made my decision to live life to the fullest when I

woke up in the hospital after attempting suicide.



References

Boyd, D. & Bee, H. (2006). Adult Development.

Boston, Massachusetts: Pearson Custom Publishing.

Harper, D. and Thomas, G. (2009) About STITCH. Retrieved January 17, 2010, from

http://www.sewingdiversitytogether.com/index.php?option=com_content&view=

article&id=47&Itemid=87.

Hudson, F. & McLean, P. Life Launch.

Santa Barbara, CA: The Hudson Institute Press.

STITCH (Standing Together In Tolerance Changing Humanity)

www.sewingdiversitytogether.com .