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Feeling the need to tidy, as I always did when I was thinking, I climbed into the attic and decided to clear out some of the old boxes I’d stuffed up there when I moved in. Cleaning and tidying was my process. It helped me through problems I was facing. Currently, in my life, there were two main problems. Darcey, and the fact that I was iLUMiNO. I had no idea how this would fit into my life. I was just a hospital porter, who happened to love his job, and his life if truth be told. iLUMiNO didn’t fit into my plans for a normal life. Thoughts of Darcey, the upcoming film premiere, and iLUMiNO filled my brain as I threw old, broken items into a bin bag. As I worked my way to the back of the room, I came across a box I hadn’t seen before. Or at the very least, one I couldn’t remember. It was a ratty, cardboard box, the kind you buy when you’re moving house. Sliding the other boxes out of the way, I crawled across the loft-boards and pulled the box towards me. My heart stopped when I realized what was written on the side. In my mum’s delicate looping handwriting, in black marker pen, was written ‘misc. items’.
After getting over the initial surprise of seeing my mum’s handwriting, I peeled the lid off the box, not entirely sure of what to expect. There were various ornaments that I recognized from our living room, some paperwork, and then, at the very bottom of the pile, was a photo-album. My mum and dad were the kind of people who documented everything they could with a camera. They had photographs all around the house, many of which I now have around my house, but I hadn’t seen this album before. I didn’t recognise it all. The pale blush covers were plain, without any decoration at all. I turned the cover back, revealing the first page. There was me, as a young baby, a very young baby, swaddled in a white Redgrand hospital blanket. Had I mentioned that I was born there too?
Flipping each page took me through the years of my own life. In the kitchen sink having a bath, my first day of nursery, our holidays to Skegness, me with my grandparents, my friends, and various family members. There were a few pictures of mum and dad dotted sporadically throughout the pages, but it was mostly me. I was in every single photograph. The last one was me in my care home scrubs holding up my brand-new driving licence. It had come in the post when I returned home from work and my mum was so excited that I hadn’t been allowed to change before she took the photo. They were always proud of me, no matter what I did. I felt a twinge of happiness at that. Bittersweet, but happy, nonetheless.
The pages fell open onto the back page of the photo album. At this moment, not one thought of anything other than my wonderful parents crossed my mind. I was totally and completely in the moment. As I went to close the final page, a slip of yellowing paper fell out from between the slip-cover. Written in biro was a poem. My dad’s handwriting this time graced the pages. In the low light of the attic, I couldn’t quite make out the words. Climbing back down the ladder, my hand shaking as I did so, I grasped the paper tightly. I sat at the very top of the stairs, holding the piece of paper in front of my face, and started to read.
As You Are
My son, my only child. I love you more each day than
the last.
The breath I breathe is for you.
The love I give is for you.
Your mother and I
know what makes you you. We know what makes you
special.
Aaron, I hope that one day you can
be who you are. Truly and unashamedly who you are.
Who you love doesn’t matter to us.
I pray that you are happy and
satisfied.
A life well-lived, with the right man.
We’ve known all along, my child and
know you will tell us in your own time. So
when that time arrives, we will simply share this
poem and you will know that you are loved
as you are.
Wholly as you are.
As you are.
I had to read the poem through a couple of times before the message could really sink in. The words were written by a true Redgrand man. The kind of man who wouldn’t readily share any feelings for fear of looking weak and unmanly. Tears streamed down my own face as the meaning seeped into me. My parents had known all along that I was gay. And it didn’t matter to them in the slightest. The words my dad had painstakingly written in his typical ‘dad’ handwriting meant more to me than anything else in the world. I was accepted, truly accepted by my parents. The date etched into the top corner of the page, just like you would at school, said Thursday 31st July 1997. The day they died. My dad, likely accompanied by my mum, would have written this on the morning of my 21st birthday. I’d thought the car would have been a pretty amazing gift, but nothing could top this. They’d give it to me when I was ready to tell them and then I’d know that everything was okay.
I’m not sure how much time I spent sitting there, re-reading the page over and over again. When my phone buzzed in my pocket, it was like I’d awoken from a trance. The screen illuminated with a message from Leigh asking if she could come around for a coffee. I know for a fact that she’d sent the message as a courtesy and was likely already on her way over here, so I couldn’t say no. After the rollercoaster of emotions I’d felt, I didn’t know whether I could bring myself to tell Leigh about the letter, and that I was gay. She’d know that something was wrong straight away, she always did. I’d get that motherly look and spill whatever was troubling me. I always did.
Leigh walked straight in through the front door shouting that she was here. Not that you could possibly miss her, she was like a whirlwind. Loud and proud. Slamming the door shut behind her, she called out asking where I was.
“Garden,” I shouted back. Knowing that she’d arrive minutes after she texted, I’d already got a pot of coffee ready and gone to sit outside. The grey rattan furniture set made me feel like I was in Ibiza, even if the Redgrand weather wasn’t quite up to snuff. As I poured Leigh a coffee into the largest mug I owned, (she was a coffee addict like me). She threw herself down into a chair and sighed.
“What’s up, pal?” I asked, pushing the coffee mug in her direction.
“I have something to confess...” Leigh edged. It was clear from her voice that she was worried about my reaction to whatever news she was about to tell me.
“Confess your sins,” I laughed, trying to make her feel at ease. I don’t remember the last time I’d seen her look nervous. She was always the confident, life of the party type.
“Okay, well, I’m pregnant,” Leigh gritted her teeth and smiled, waiting for my reaction.
“Leigh, oh my god! Congratulations!” I shouted as she broke into a true smile. “You are happy about it, aren’t you?” I double-checked before I launched into a tirade about how good a mother she’d be.
“Yes, I’m so happy. We’re so happy. I just can’t quite believe it. I did like fifteen tests, just to make sure. But, yeah, I’m going to be a mum!”
“Oh Leigh, I’m so happy for you!” I gushed, lunging across the table and wrapping her into a hug.
Baby talk consumed us for the next hour or so. Did she want a boy or girl? Boy. Did she want to breast-feed or bottle-feed? Bottle-feed. And so on. As she stood up to leave, I asked to feel the baby. It was too soon, I knew that. But I couldn’t help myself. As I cupped the gentle slope of her stomach, I felt the most overwhelmingly pure power within her. I could see it in front of me, a completely white light emanating from Leigh’s belly. It was stronger than anything I’d ever felt before, new and untapped potential. And my best friend was bringing it into the world. I could tell the baby was happy and healthy. I secretly thanked iLUMiNO for the power to see within Leigh, to feel the energy that she was bringing into the world. It felt spectacular. She smiled at me as I peeled my hands away.
“Feel anything?” She joked, knowing full well I wouldn’t.
“I definitely felt the baby kick,” I laughed.
“That would be the burrito I had earlier, sorry!”
With that, we both descended into belly laughs.
“I have to go now, Az! Stop making me laugh!” Leigh screeched as she walked back through the patio doors and into the kitchen. “What’s that?”
I turned my head to see what she was pointing at. The poem. Before I could explain, she’d already picked it up and begun to read.
“Your dad?” was all she said, her voice barely more than a whisper.
“Yes,” I nodded, not knowing what else to say. Unusual for me!
“They knew you were gay? And they accepted you. Az, that’s amazing news, right? That’s got to feel amazing, hasn’t it?” Leigh reached out and placed a hand on my arm.
“Wait, you knew?” I managed to choke out.
“Of course, I did,” Leigh left the sentence hanging before me.
“Why didn’t you tell me you knew?” I asked.
“Because it didn’t make any difference to me,” Leigh pulled me into a hug. Once again, I felt the energy pulsating inside her belly as it pushed against me. Leigh would be a great mother. I was sure of it.