repost c 2006 Aunt Lori

Aunt Lori

"I can't believe what you've been through. Loosing your both of your parents before 10 and the only man you ever loved. Also, the courage it's taken you to live your life. I really can't even imagine." Walls are the operative word in my psychoanalysis of this transgender.

She jokes so much, and is always a little drunk. I felt like she understood loss much more fundamentally that I ever could. She's a Virgo. Mutable signs always catch me off guard, because I feel like they understand some things more than I ever can.

"I lived with another man for a while. A few years. But it didn't work. I know I can't be with anyone. That was much later in life though. God, it took me so long to get over him. He was in the military, an only child. I told you how he died, right?" I know she was referring to the man she lived with from about 20-23. I felt like the life she chose made love impossible.

"Yeah, crossing the street. That's terrible." I wished I could say something, anything and make it sound genuine. How can you alleviate something that's been sitting in somebody for a lifetime? You can't. It stays and festers forever.

"I have my album. It's all from my drinking days. I used to be a showgirl. Do you want to see some pictures?" She asked me with a sparkle. I know not that many people would want to hear her story. She grabbed her photo album from the corner of the room on the floor. I wondered how long it had been there.

"Yeah, I'd love to!" I reveled at the idea of seeing vintage trannies and queens. I love them. I started to look through it. I was amazed at the amount of 8x10s there were. All of the girls thought they were movie stars. They all had autographed photos for their friends, men, etc. A lot of them looked fierce. Lori probably looked the worst in most of them, mostly because she fully transitioned so late in life. I always think that it's taken her a lifetime and struggle just to be referred to as "she". How many people would know her story? Not very many. I'm sure most were dead now, either from hard living or HIV.

"So this is all the pictures from my family reunion. These are the first pictures after I didn't see my family for 17 years. I finally called my sister. She cried so much, she thought I was dead. I told her I was coming home for a week, and someone needed to pick me up from the airport. These are all my friends. This is back in my drinking days. She eventually got the surgery. Canadian. She was Canadian. They were nice people. Look at her. Here's my best friend. Mexican. Oh god, we laughed. She was so much fun. Such a good person. She died very young in a car crash."

"Oh trouble. She looks like a fiery Latina." I said jokingly. As I turned though the pages of yellowed photos, obviously from the 60's or 70's from the choice of hair, makeup, and outfits, I wondered what Lori's life was like back then. The years upon years of struggling just to be herself. Hustling and doing drugs. She had so fewer opportunities. I wonder if my life would have been very similar under those same circumstances. The trannies looked FIERCE! Black, white, Asian. All kinds. Some could pass effortlessly, I could tell. "Oh this one has fake boobs!"

"Yeah, she got the surgery. She had the surgery too. She got married." She was taking me down the road of her life, pointing to safe havens and welcoming landmarks she had encountered on the way. Even now as a senior she likes to gossip. I'm sure she talked shit on all of them, but loved them at the same time. You know how it goes with your friends.

"It was just such a different time. I see how people tried a lot more to pass a women back them. I can't believe it. Look at this makeup. How did she get her hair so high? It's as big as her face, look!" I said laughing.

"Well, it's actually a hairpiece." She proceeded to tell me how they got that hair, but I was too wrapped up in these endless old photos. Their glossy matte finishes dated them so much. A lot looked like women, some didn't. I wondered how much they had to struggle in their lives. I was sure a lot of them were dead by now.
"Look at all the men you were carrying on with!"

"Yeah, that's at Aunt Charlies. It has to be 20 years ago."

"Wow, I can't believe it! I've been there. Hanging out in the TL? I bet you could tell some stories. Do you know Wes? He's MCed there."

"Well back in the 60's the gay scene was really fun. Trippin. Trippin." Then she made a syringe out of her finger and a motion of shooting up. It kind of caught me off guard. I could easily tell she was always into heavy shit, but I feel like needles cross the line, only because of the desperation to get fucked up. "And then I became a call girl. I can't even guess how many men. 40 50 bucks. That's what I charged. There you go. I did so many drugs. The 60's were really crazy. It was so innocent." Coincidentally, I always said that anyone I know would be worth 50 bucks on the street. Now I realized it was a lot more, if an unmodified Samoan tranny in the 70s already cost that much.

"Yeah, guys are easy. You do what you got to. I totally feel you, Lee. I can't imagine how fun it must have been. I wish I could have lived it Even though I'm way more grateful to be alive now, and if I could choose I'd much prefer to be born several hundred years in the future, it seems like the 60s were an exciting time to be alive!"

I got so lucky that I didn't ever get that disease. You know what I mean." She hesitated, she couldn't figure it out. Her eyes moved around in confusions, as if saying, why the fuck can't I think of it? It was then that I could tell she was drunk. Everyone knows she's an alcoholic, but nobody says anything. I guess other people know it's not their place. She probably has good reason.

"Hepatitis C?"

"No, I already have that. The other one that gay people keep getting. What is it?"

"HIV?"

"Yeah, I don't know how I escaped it. My sister always talks about marks on my face, and freaks out, telling me I have to go to the doctor. I got one on this cheek, but it went away. Then I got another one on the other side." She said laughing. "The doctor said it was ok." I was astounded that the AIDS epidemic was one of the few things that escaped her memory, especially since it has been such a hot issue my whole life.

"I get sunspots too, my skin is really sensitive. I get white spots and dark spots if I'm in the sun for too long. I've been like that my whole life, especially as a kid when I was on the swim team." I offered a similar story to diffuse the situation. It seemed like she had been HIV positive for many years, and was just pretending like the spots on her face were totally nothing.

"So, after I was a call girl I eventually was getting older, and I had to get a job. Let me tell you missy, you might think you've been around the block but I've been around the world."

The saddest yet most beautiful thing was that she really had. Nobody really knows what you go through except yourself. "You really should write a book. I know you could tell some stories. Seriously, as a person of color on top of being trans? That's what will be studied in universities, and as a marginalized person, the worst thing you could do to yourself or your sisters is to let your voice fall silent. You story deserves to be heard. This is the future, this sort of science has only began to come into existence in modern society."

She looked away with a disinterested look in her eyes. Nobody could every really get her, she would always be alone.