March 3rd 2018 final update: Daughter Denise here.
As some of you know, I promised to release Papa's final story/chapters if Papa didn't make it.
He didn't, so I am. His things were held up in customs briefly (2 months). I just posted his last chapter of Fake ID. Thank you all for keeping his spirits up. He loved writing for you. Fourteen months and three stories doesn't seem like a lot. Those stories kept him going, they took his mind off the pains.
To us those stories meant everything, they gave Papa release.
D and the kids.
***Special note 11/22/2017 - I am taking a medical hiatus. The treatments I'm going through are just draining, to the point where I cannot hold a thought. I hope to get back to story telling soon. My mind is going 50 directions all at the same time. I just don't have the energy to talk let alone type. I am sorry if this disappoints those of you who are following me. This is one of those times I have to put myself first.****
Tiny frame, big imagination.
Mom's family was Turkish-Armenian. She was devoutly Catholic. She could handle me being gay. She couldn't handle me sharing my life and bed with a Muslim. Ghosts of the family's past, I guess. I believe forgiveness begins with someone releasing the pain from the past to build a future.
Dad's family was mostly Danish with a splash of Seminole, Cherokee, and whatever (American hodgepodge.) He was a Pentecostal homophobe. He preferred telling his friends I died as a result of being shot in Central America, rather than telling them I was gay. Let alone head over heals for a Saudi Arabian hunk.
My friends call me Izzy, My beloved Aza (Oz) was very possessive/protective of me. He called me HIS "Itsy" or "Itsy-bitsy." It was so damned cute listening to him try to pronounce those names (and p's). If only he lived a little longer, I'd be a widower not just a "surviving partner."
To quote TVs Maxwell Smart, "Missed it by THAT much."
I once had a judge tell me, from the bench, the beautiful man threw away his life of comfort, his title, crossed a ocean (and half a world) to care for his wounded lover, and stand by my side for 30 years deserves a better title than PARTNER. After 9/11 he became a naturalized citizen, making my country, OUR country. He (we) deserved more.
I envy all the options and opportunities the young have today. Sorry if that makes me sound "OLD," guess I am.
- Izmirlian
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