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Moments in a Life by C. Cameron Introduction I have recently begun thinking about my stories and have realized that way too many of my early very private and very personal attempts were mostly about a guy (ok, yes, me) changing into basically an ing?nue - a young, beautiful, well-endowed, woman. Except I'm not exactly getting younger. So, I figured it was time to write a more age compatible story. You know, married women can be sexy, mothers can be sexy, women in middle-age can be sexy. To accomplish that, I had to allow one event here that cannot be considered natural. At the moment, I can't think of any other way to move the story forward, but I don't think it's magic because that implies all sorts of other scenarios. It's just unexplained, like enough other things in life seem to be, and anyway, basically, not only are there no spells, but no wizards, no medallions, no horny boys hoping to get laid (well, I don't know about Jared, but a parent hopes!), just an event. And in the end, only two people know about it, and one of them wasn't told until much later. I am more interested in exploring relationships involving transgendered people and how they (we) and others close to us deal with unexpected events. Here is an attempt at that, which btw is a very G rated story. Of which I happen to be quite proud. A Life Changing Moment Sometimes I think about my life and wish it could be so different. I've had this passionate desire to dress and maybe even live as a woman practically my whole life, and now as the years slip away, I resign myself to knowing that it will never happen. I'll die frustrated and disappointed that the one thing I wanted most in life, like Ludovic in 'Ma Vie En Rose', will never, ever happen to me. In those brief moments when I'm able to respond to my desire, at even the simplest level, I slip in the false breasts, I imagine the wildest scenarios, sometimes I even dress up and put on one of my wigs and the pictures I take of myself, almost look real in some ways, like if you scrunch up your eyes, maybe. But I also feel the calmest and most peaceful that I have ever felt. My spouse knows of my secret desires and she has even helped to try to incorporate them into our intimate moments together. Yet, for whatever reason, I get little satisfaction from it. Because at those moments, I am still a man in women's clothing. And in those secret moments known only to myself, I dream of something more, much more. Could a dual life ever be possible, I wonder. There is so much going on in this life, it would be near impossible to give it all up - a loving spouse, adult children with grandchildren and possibly more on the way, my natal family including my mother, brothers, sisters, and their families. And a job, a house, responsibilities. Yet, what I would give for a month or maybe only a week, here or there to satisfy my desires. I wouldn't need it all the time, just a chance to see what it would be like. To experience even for a little while, a life like those I've seen and wondered - and dreamed - about basically from afar. But the reality is, that possibility is so remote as to seem totally worthless to even imagine. So, I don't know what to do. Do I keep tearing my mind apart, beating myself up, wishing for something that will never happen? Do I indulge my fantasies occasionally, hoping that no one ever sees me or finds out? And what of my fantasies as I get older? Gee, when I was in my 20's and 30's it was easy to imagine myself as someone changed into an 18-24 year old buxom virgin and picture myself in all sorts of S&M, bondage, or wild sex type situations. But as I get older, that does get old, doesn't it. And maybe just a little silly. Thus each night, I lay down and try to get some sleep as one more day and soon one more night slips away forever, never to be given back or used for what I have wished and dreamed of my whole life. And, as the days slip away, I do something I haven't done for so many years, but is well know to every cross-dresser who has ever lived. I will keep my dreams and my fantasies, but it's time to push on with the rest of my life and do what all cross-dressers absolutely hate, besides despising the word itself, and that is, purge everything. It's not a solution, but something is nagging at me. So, out go the clothes, out go the pictures, out go the stories. I know it's not an answer to anything, and it will not change my thinking, but something is telling me it may be necessary. And then, this night, with my wife out with friends for the evening, I'm in the bedroom after a light dinner and I get these pains in my chest similar to ones before, and realize that I really am out of shape and I should really have gone and seen a doctor and taken care of this, maybe exercised more, pills, watched my diet, a hundred different possibilities. I've had something like this before, but I usually take those small aspirin, and lay down, and eventually things get back to normal. But this is different and I can tell immediately. It gets much too severe and much too sharp right in the center of my chest, and then quickly becomes like a tremendous tightness across my chest, I begin to fear that it just might be too late. I practically fall onto the bed and just lay there as the pain and then numbness build. And in almost seconds, it is unbearable. I can't even imagine getting to a phone. This is my life and now as I lay here, realizing the magnitude of this event, I guess, it's my death, leaving behind a family, a wife, a son and three grandchildren that I'll never be able to spend any more time with as they mature and start their own families, or my other son and my two daughters and their yet unborn children. How typical of my life, how typical of my death. Maybe I deserve it. Maybe my life has been a total waste with no redeeming virtues. And maybe my dream, my fantasy has been the real culprit in all this, giving me an easy out to explain away all my problems. I close my eyes, feeling bad for the problems I'm leaving my wife, the failure I've been as a husband, the feeble attempts at being a good father. All in vain. Well, that's life, isn't it? If there is just one wish I could have before.... The pain becomes very intense right in the center of my chest and my left arm goes numb and I realize...this is it. I feel like I can't even move or open my mouth. I close my eyes, or more likely it just goes dark around me. Ok, so where's this light everyone's been talking about. Do I get to go somewhere interesting or is it more of the same? Am I sleeping? Should I wake up? Do I start all over like re- incarnation? Is this limbo and I'm stuck here until the Last Days? Um, what's going on here? Something's not right. Why is there now a pain in my head, or on my head, or, OH, MAN! is it ever severe! Oh my god, it's practically a crushing pain. What did I do? What's happening? Am I getting a blood clot in my brain? Do I now go through immeasurable pain and suffering for eternity? Make it go away, please dear god! Oh, wait, there's a voice, what is it saying? Claire? Who's Claire? Who's that voice? Uh, 'Sorry'? Sorry for what? "Oh, ooooooh," uh, is that me!?! Oh, my god, it hurts so even to breath much less get a word out, please, dear Lord, please stop! The voice again, a man's voice, I guess, "I used this towel; there's a lot of blood on it. Or, uh, there was!?! Oh, uh, I just hope it isn't as bad as it looked." "Ooooooh, what...?" that can't be my voice; this has to be a dream. Doesn't it? In between stabs of pain, I force myself to open my eyes, and I try to glance around me without daring to move my head, it is so painful. Why am I on the floor? Wasn't I on my bed? And why am I in what looks like a living room? Uh, whose living room is this? Oh, merciful heavens, the pain! I close my eyes because of the pain, or because I have no idea what's going on, and I hope in the darkness there might be some relief. The voice is very close to me, "Just stay quiet, Claire, EMS is here, they'll take good care of you." EMS? What's happening? How did others get here so quick? Who called? Why is someone calling me Claire? I can feel arms around me. Something cold and moist on my head where it hurts. Oh, my, god, does it hurt! I can't believe I'm not seeing stars or something. This is much too real for a dream. But what is going on? And why my head? Why not my heart? Another voice, a man's again, but a little younger, I think, "She should be all right; it looks like only a surface wound. It may look like a lot of blood, but it's really not that much. Cuts like this can bleed a lot, often they're not too serious. We'll get her to the emergency room, and it'll probably be just a few stitches at the most. Though, it will most likely be very sore and there'll be a large bump for some time." And then I think he's talking to me, "Ma'am, can you understand me? Is there any place else that hurts or that's painful for you? Take your time." He shines a small flashlight in each eye. I blink and look up at him and barely shaking my head between surges, mumble, "uh, uh." No heart pain, that's for sure, just this awful aching, throbbing head. He called me 'Ma'am.' What is going on? Oh, can't think, there it is again. Like waves washing across me, barely recovering from the first when the next hits. "Good, good, ok, just relax and try not to move. I think we've got the bleeding stopped for a moment. Let's get her onto the cart." "Oh, thank god! I was so afraid." The man's voice next to me and someone, him, I guess, has taken my hand, "It'll be all right, darling, I am so sorry." Oh, uh, I want to talk, but it is very painful, blinding even, just moaning takes almost too much energy. This isn't at all what I've heard goes on in heart attacks. His hand feels nice, right now, really nice, I should, I guess, squeeze it. Why? I guess, I don't know, let him know it's all right? It feels right. A child's voice, a young girl, "Is Mom gonna be ok?" She sounds very worried. Mom. Somebody's Mom. Who? Is that me? That can't be right. Can it? Am I Claire? Oh, the pain again. "I'm sure your mother will be fine in time, just a really nasty bump and from the looks, just a small cut, but we'll know more at the ER." "When I first saw it, I thought it was really bad, but, I...I don't know, I guess you're right. I thought. Well, there isn't that much blood, is there? I, I guess I was just...worried." "How did it happen? Did she hit her head here?" "Yes." The child's voice again, "I saw it; they were arguing like they do, but even more so, and Mom turned to go and all of sudden, like she slipped, and fell. Dad was still over there. I saw it all." "Ok, hon, thanks." The man's voice, "Can I go with her? You?" "You're her husband? Yes, I'll need to take some information on the way. Ok, ma'am, just relax, we're putting you on this gurney." I'm lifted gently but firmly, and I'm on this stretcher-bed like thing, it's certainly softer then what I was on, but my head still hurts so much. Can't think too much, all this is just so confusing. "Oh, uh,.." I try to say. "Just be quiet ma'am, we want to make sure there's no concussion or serious internal injuries." I hear him saying off to one side, "I don't believe there are, we just have to be extremely sure in a case like this." Internal injuries? What about my heart? Why is there no pain there at all? I'm wheeled outside, I blink quickly and it appears evening, a little dark, but some hint of light, it is evening, I guess, (it was also evening when the heart attack came, wasn't it?) and then I'm in the back of some vehicle, it looks like a small hospital. I wonder, I hope I look all right, I mean, am I looking presentable? Uh, why am I thinking that? The young girl's voice again, "Dad, here's Mom's purse, she never goes anywhere without it." "Oh, thanks," a slight pause, then, "both of you are to stay home until we know your mother will be ok. I'll call Grandma and Gramps, let them know. They may come by." "Can we come to the hospital later?" "I'll call you as soon as I know. Ok, Allie? Ok, Jared?" The girl's voice, a little apprehensive, but positive, "Ok, Dad." A slightly older voice now, like a teen-age boy, also worried, "Ok, Dad, I just hope Mom'll be ok." A girl and a boy, and I think they're calling me 'Mom'. I don't understand this at all. I glance quickly at them and see the extreme concern and worry on their faces. They are etched in my mind. I attempt to smile at them, then close my eyes and try to imagine the pain gone. It's impossible. Once inside the vehicle, an ambulance I guess, I try to take stock, between the very sharp stabs of pain, of exactly what is going on. I start to think about myself. I can feel something like slacks on me, a soft kind of shoe, I guess, I feel a shirt or something, and like a light sweater over that, and now that I'm thinking about it, I definitely feel a brassiere. I know what they feel like and this is definitely one, and not a tiny one either. And I feel my breasts. Oh...my...god...breasts! And then as I slightly move my head, I feel my hair, and it seems shoulder length. Oh, my god. Is there anything still there between... Oh, my god. I'm a woman. What in heaven's name has happened? Who am I? What am I? And who's this man sitting next to me, all worried, who's holding my hand? Oh, oh, my god, I see two rings on my ring finger of my left hand. A diamond on one. I'm married. He must be...he's my...my husband... And things go black. "Claire! Claire? What's happened to her?" "Ooooooh," I moan. "Good, she's coming around. I think it was just a little shock. As hard as you say she hit her head, it's not surprising. She has been quite alert considering. And her vital signs are all stable, heart, breathing." "Ooooooooh, I...I'm sor..r.ry," I try to say. "You're doing ok, ma'am, just the body's way of righting itself sometimes. We're almost here. We'll check for a possible concussion." I'm ok, he says. What he doesn't know would make every doctor in creation think I'm not so okay. But, I've got to hold on. Think this through, or things will go really bad. I've got to do something right now or I'll lose it. I look up at the man holding my hand, a sort of handsome looking man, Claire's husband. I don't even know his name. I smile a weak smile, and squeeze his hand again. And I say in almost a whisper, "Thank you." He smiles back and with a look I've seen and probably shown others, I know what it is, as he says, "We'll get through this, Claire, I know, somehow. I love you too much not to." I again try a small smile back and then close my eyes and between the stabs of pain that are still there, and consider what's going on. I'm now a woman, I'm guessing somewhere in my late 30's. I have no idea what I look like, but I know that I have two children, Jared and Allie, the boy looks about 15, maybe 16, the girl about 9 or 10. A nice looking house. A husband. But we were fighting, and Allie - Allison? - seemed to say it's rather normal. That's not good, not at all. Oh, how will I ever manage this? I feel just so overwhelmed and this pain is not helping in the least. And where am I, where's my house, my wife, my family? I don't know if I can deal with all this. "Ok, I've got to fill out some forms. I'll need some information. Your wife's name?" "Claire Kenton. Claire with an 'e'. K.E.N.T.O.N." "Age? "Thirty-seven" "Ok, let's see. Hair? Brown. Eyes? Brown. 5 feet 7 inches, I would say. Weight?" "I think last she told me about 135." "Ok, good. Your name?" "Brad, Bradley Kenton." I don't know why but just those pieces of information make me feel so much better. I think, ok, now, I can make it. I'm not just a body lying here, I'm somebody. I don't know who she is exactly, who I am now, but I have a name, Claire Kenton. Claire. A Life Affirming Moment "Claire, we need to talk. Now, if it's all right. It's important." I wonder what this is about, I'm not sure of her tone; while somewhat pleasant, it's also a little worrisome. Is she like this usually? I don't know, I just don't know. What else can I do? She is Mom, Claire's Mother, my mother, now, yet I barely know her. She and Dad were at the hospital and fussed around when I returned home, not quite three months ago, now; but I've only talked to her maybe once a week since then, nice pleasant calls, but each a little short. Probably my fault, because what can I talk to her about? If she brings up something from our past, I'm usually completely clueless. The accident covered for a lot of it, but I'm sure she's suspicious or worried or something. I was glad she was there because I certainly fumbled around trying to understand Claire's life and somehow pick up from where she left. Oh, how I stumbled through those days, having to learn so much, so quickly. But I somehow muddled through; well, I hope anyway. They came to dinner tonight, and now with the meal cleaned up, we're leaving the others in the living room. I catch a glimpse of worry on both Brad's and my Dad's faces. Yet, maybe this is the moment I need with her, because there is something I have to tell her, too. I guess I'll find out. We go into the den. "Please sit, dear, as this may take a few minutes." A pause. She paces a little as I sit, sort of on the edge of the small sofa. I wonder what's going on. There must be something Claire did, I did. I'm going to look so stupid, since I can't possibly remember. Just go with it. I guess. "I really don't know how to say this or where to begin." "It's all right, Mom, I'm listening. Whatever it is, I'm a big girl, I can probably handle it," I try to be helpful, at least a little, anyway. She stops and looks at me for a moment, I can't make out what she might be thinking. Finally she says with a little resignation, "Yes, you are, I sup....." She pauses again and then says in a rush, like she wants to get it all out as quickly as possible, "Well, I don't know how to explain it, but, well, a mother does know her children, and," she pauses again searching for the words before pensively continuing, "well, you're Claire, but...somehow, I don't know how, you're not. I..." I stop her there. I think I know where this may be going, and I'm a little frightened. "Mom," what do I say now? "Let me finish, please." She sits down on the sofa next to me. I give her my full attention, and smile at her. I guess it works, because she sighs and then says, "Brad talked to me about the accident, just after it happened, and I've seen the scar, and I understand how it happened, but he told me he was so scared when you...you hit your head, it was like a loud crack, he said, and he was sure there was an awful amount of blood as he tried to wrap it. But when the EMS people got there, very quickly, thank goodness, he says it was like it was just a skin cut. Like most of it just disappeared or something. He was sure it broke your skull. Yet, it didn't. He could not explain it, and is still very confused at times and worried about the whole thing. When we talked earlier this week, he thinks some of what's happened since is strictly because of the accident. Now here you are. And yet...you aren't. And, I can't explain it. It's...well, the way you talk, the way you hold yourself. The fall could not have possibly caused all that. I allowed it was for the first several weeks, and things would just normally straighten out. But, it's...you're just different, so.... I..." She pauses not knowing what to say next, and I'm not sure what to say. I finally say, "Mom, it's all right. Just say what you feel." She looks deeply into my eyes, a small smile at that encouragement, I hope, and sighs again and says, "When I look at you, I see the little girl I gave life to, and raised, and, your birthdays, your first date, and your prom, yours and Brad's wedding, Jared and Allie, oh, so many things. And I remember all too well, how just months ago, nothing seemed right to you, not your life, not me or your father, or Brad, or even your children. I had seen it grow in you for some time. And yet, whoever you are now, so many wonderful things have happened since then. Your marriage to Brad looks like it will make it. I was worried barely three months ago, that you might separate by now and possibly even a divorce, which could be a messy one. Now, Brad appears happy but because of his worries, I know he really doesn't want to think too much about it." Yes, I think, Brad and I are getting along. Better? I have no idea how it was before. At the beginning, he treated me a little like with kid gloves, not sure of himself or us, even when I came to him, but I can tell he has become a lot less defensive, and we talk. And very seldom disagree. And there have been times when we don't talk, late at night, when the lights are out. When we get very close. I'm guessing Claire and Brad's sex life was the last to go after most everything else was gone, and that it disappeared just before the accident. Maybe when that went, that brought on that moment. But, it's coming back. The very intimate moments were first, and then slowly and in stages the other parts of our life, but it seems to be working. And I can tell that Brad does not want to upset that at all. And then there is.... She continues as I'm thinking of this, "And Jared and Allison are a lot happier and get along with each other and with you...and I've talked to their teachers." I look at her a little surprised. I'm trying so hard to be a good mother, and people going around without including me, even my parents, doesn't always help. But, also, I still don't really know her or the schools that well. She sees my concern and continues, "Yes, I did, I won't apologize. I had to find out, and they say, the change in each of them has been remarkable." Allie and Jared. They are such wonderful children. They just needed someone to show them not just real care, but concern and understanding. Especially about limits, and how they can be negotiated and agreed to, not the strict expectations that seemed to be demanded of them. I'm so lucky to have them because I've seen too many other children that have no boundaries, or those that are too sheltered, or those that are over scheduled. It's a fine line, I know all too well. She pauses again, and then takes my hands in hers, and tries to continue, "And, now, since the accident, it's like all of a sudden, you care for others and yourself, and you've taken back responsibility, and, well, all the things I hoped for you, and worried about you, and yet..." She looks down, "I should be thrilled, I should be overjoyed. I shouldn't be even more worried." I have tried very hard, as I think back on these almost three months. Figuring out how this family lived, what they expected out of me. What I should expect out of them. Learning to keep a house up. Saying a prayer to a mother in a former life for expecting things out of me. Calling on all my past experiences in helping with a house. It has been difficult, but somehow I think it has been working. It would have so easy to just walk out, but there was something... She looks up at me, "And I am because, something deep down, says that what I see, right here in front of me, somehow, isn't you. It isn't the girl I raised...and fought with, and lived through those years that we didn't speak, and have loved since birth." She pauses again and looks at me even more deeply than before, "I'm sorry, I shouldn't be complaining. I don't know, I just don't know...." I look at her, thinking of all my past life, my family that I'll never see again, my mother, my wife, my children. How can anyone deal with knowing that all that is gone? And now, the only mother I really still have isn't even sure I'm her daughter. What do I do? How do I cope with this, too? "Mom?" I try again. She looks up with some tears in her eyes and I feel so terrible. It's like I've stolen this body, I've stolen this life. Yet, I had nothing to do with it. Some quirk of nature. Some act by something outside all that we know or think we know. Where is my old life? It's totally gone and buried. I have nowhere else to go. Should I tell her? Would she believe me? Should I lie and say, it's all right, everything is just fine, I've just had a lot of time to think about things and I realized they had to be different? She knows the truth. At least a part of it. I know she knows. And I think she realizes now, that I see that. And there is that something else. Is this the right time? She sighs again and says, "Yes?" "Mom," I take a deep breath, "this is what I know. Right now and as far into the future as I can possibly see, I am Claire. You're my mother, Dad is my father, Brad is my husband and Jared and Allie are my children. All of you are the most and only important people in my life." I pause and think, should I? "And there's something else." I sigh, because I'm not sure I should say anything, especially this right now as I was hoping for the right moment, but I have to, I have to do something to restore her confidence in me, if only for her and my father, and my own sanity, "I had it confirmed and," I pause for a moment, "and I'm pregnant. The baby is due in June." The shock on her face is obvious, and she immediately lets show a broad smile and squeezes my hands and says, "Oh, that's...You are going to have it, aren't you? That is so wonderful. It's...when...?" "Yes, Mom, I am. It happened several weeks after the accident, after I came home. And, I just knew. I've done two tests and they're positive, and I was at Dr. Williams yesterday. I'm just around 2 months." I think back on that night, how totally thrilled Brad was when I responded to him, he had been so tender and gentle and understanding when we came home, like a big puppy dog, how could I not respond to him? I did know it had to be slow at first, even I was a little afraid, but over time, we talked for a bit and then, I let him hold me, and well, one thing just slowly but surely led to another. Oh, what a great lover he was, how he pleased me, and hopefully, even though I stumbled at times, as it was all so new to me, I pleased him. How I sort of left him thinking something a little different about what protection I was using. And how within days, maybe hours, I knew, and, after a lot of thought and more moments with him, told him there was a possibility, and the look of joy on his face. And our talking and agreeing on what we wanted. "Oh, Dear, I'm so happy for you. Do Jared and Allison know yet? Brad of course knows. Yes, that explains why he seems so happy tonight. And I thought, he was just... Are you taking care of yourself? Well, you must be since you've already seen the doctor. I am just so happy for you, that is such wonderful news!" "Yes, Brad does but I'm telling the kids tonight and Dad, too. That's part of the reason I invited you two to dinner. I've waited because I want to make sure everything is ok, and it is. I'm taking very good care of myself; I've already scheduled the next several check ups." "Oh, I am so glad," she says and then pauses as she appears to relax a little, and finishes, "and I'm so sorry to have worried you, please forget everything I just said. I'm just a foolish old woman." She looks at me like everything has been explained, and there is a really convenient explanation for the past several months. I realize more than ever I have to tell her right now, before I lose my nerve. "Mom," I take another deep breath, and say very quietly, "you said we have to talk. You're right, more so then you could ever imagine, and we do have to, right now. I don't know who else to talk to, who will even believe me. I'm not even sure you will. You'll probably think I'm crazy or worse, others will think it's related to carrying a baby, now that...I'm older." I can see she is getting all defensive like she'll say 'of course I won't, I'm your mother' or something like that, but I continue, "And what I'm going to say, only you and I will ever know. But, well, you're," I start to say Claire's, but quickly say, "my mother, and if I can't talk to you, then, well, I just don't know." "Of course, you can talk to me, and I promise, whatever you say, or we talk about, will only be between us two. What's the matter? Is the baby all right? Did they find anything? Any problem?" "The baby is fine, and nothing was found, not with it, not with me. I was afraid something might be wrong with me, but they found nothing out of the ordinary. I'm still Claire Andrews Kenton... but that's the problem." "I don't understand, Claire. I do know that pregnancies affect us all differently and even differently each time. Is there something else I don't understand?" I take a breath and say, "You were absolutely right about what you said before." "What are you talking about? About what" Is she forgetting? Trying to put it out of her mind? That won't be good for either of us in the long run. I have to go through with this, "Mom, I'm Claire, the daughter you bore and raised and mothered and cared for and fought with and all of that," I pause a second and continue, "and yet, like you said, I'm not." I can see she is very confused. Maybe I shouldn't have started it. Pregnancy is such a nice tidy way to attribute all one's problems, and she is more than willing to accept that, but it would be a lie, and I can't start the rest of this life, my life, with a lie. I have no choice but to continue. "I don't know how to put this, but I'm going to try. And please, I really need you to be as understanding and as compassionate and caring and everything like that as you possibly can, maybe even more so, but if you can't be after I tell you, I'll understand. I'm not sure I could accept me if this story was told to me." "Claire, I'm your mother and you will always be my daughter, and I'll never, ever stop loving you." I smile and say, "Thanks, Mom. I really needed you to say that. I just hope when I've told you all my story, you'll still feel the same way." I can see the little hurt in her eyes because I'm questioning her love for her daughter, but who wouldn't be hurt, and who in my position wouldn't feel that this story is so weird that no one would ever believe it? Yet, I must try. "Now, please, bear with me, because it's very strange." "I will, Claire; you know you will always be my daughter." I take another breath and start, "Up in Michigan, yes, it starts in some state we've seldom even thought about, there's this little town, it doesn't matter the name, it's sort of a cross between a farming community and a bedroom for the cities some distance away. It's not too different than here. With decent people, tree lined streets." "That's fine, but what does it have to do with us, with you? Have any of us ever been there?" "No, I doubt it. It's just that I need you to understand that even though I, Claire, have never been there, I know it. Quite well in fact." "How can that be?" "Please, just listen to the rest. It's hard enough as it is, because thinking about it brings back so many thoughts." "Ok, dear, please go on." "Well, just a little ways west of that town almost in the country, is a very nice house, a red brick spacious ranch, with a nice sized covered, enclosed porch. A family has lived there for a number of years, a husband, wife, and now, one of their two daughters. Their other daughter lives some miles away with her boyfriend, and a son and his wife and their three children live out East. And the husband and wife were nearing retirement." Mom looks at me oddly and asks, "That's nice, dear. Do you or we know them?" I sigh again, and say, "I told you this was strange. No, you don't know them, and Claire," I pause and continue, "me now, doesn't know them either. I doubt if Brad or I have been to Michigan in years and as I said, I would guess we were never in that town. But just let me finish." She smiles, still confused, and nods. I continue, "Not quite three months ago, on the same night I fell and hit my head, one of that couple had a heart attack. At just about the same time. I think it was probably at exactly the same time. I did some checking several weeks ago on the internet, and what I suspected, and feared, after my accident, I found to be sadly true. That person died that night. It was very quick. And the death, no doubt, has caused problems." I stop and look away for a moment as a tear comes to my eye - yes, there were problems, and I can't do anything about them. I certainly have enough problems here to deal with, don't I. And yet, in the brief moments I had gathered all my courage, gone online, and looked for myself, there were some surprises, too. She looks at me again, sees my reaction and continuing with that confusion says, "That's very tragic for them, dear, but how does this affect you? You don't know them, and they're certainly a long way away." Well, here is the hard part, how do I put this? Just blunder forward, I guess as I say, "Mom, that night, I was experiencing severe chest pains in my bedroom, and I lay down on the bed, and closed my eyes and probably...died, and then, I opened them, my head hurt so bad, I could barely see, and I was lying on a floor of a living room I had never been in before, bleeding. And I was no longer that person, I was now me, Claire." I emphasize every 'I'. I take a deep breath. Mom looks at me and rather blankly - which is what I was sort of expecting because I wouldn't know what to say now, either - says, "I don't understand. Did you have a vision or something? Is there anything wrong with your heart?" "When I was at the doctor's they checked my heart, there is nothing wrong with it, nor has there ever been. I, or really the person I was, was having a heart attack, and that person is now, sadly, dead. And Claire, your daughter, is me, and I'm now her." She looks at me how I would look at someone who is acting sort of crazy. "I can't explain it, Mom, all my memories, my experiences, my life before that night are as this person in Michigan. All my memories and my life since then are as Claire, your daughter. I can tell you every detail of that person's life, practically every moment, even every computer password, all of it. I can tell you the life stories of their four children, that person's family, parents, grandparents, summer vacations, teachers names, friends, everything. I just can't tell you mine, Claire's, except what I've learned and experienced since the accident." Those memories,...and those problems - a mortgage on a too big house, a too small insurance policy, some bills, and the funeral costs. But those surprises! And then she says the last thing I want to hear, and absolutely the last thing I would ever want her to say, "Perhaps, that blow caused some kind of trauma we don't know about. Maybe you should have a full check-up or there's a doctor, I know, you can see and talk to about this." I look at her very sadly and say, "Mom, I said only you and I will ever know about this. You're the only person I will ever tell. If you don't believe me, then absolutely nobody else will ever believe me. I know I'm not crazy and there is no reason to give others reason to believe I might be." "But I'm only thinking of your well being." I have to continue or I will go crazy, "Yes, it absolutely is about my well being. I've been given a second chance in life, and I am going to make the most of it. I can't explain it and I'm not going to try, but I have a feeling deep in those parts of me that seem to be really still Claire, that she loved Brad, and her children, and you and Dad very, very much. For whatever reason, she was just tired of it all and didn't know what she wanted, only that she wanted out, away from all this, really badly. So much that she was going to sacrifice everything for it, her marriage, her children, even her parents." I pause and looking as deeply into her eyes as she has done, say, "You know that's true, don't you? She was just about ready to leave. Maybe that night. Allie was there, as you know, and in her innocent way, told me later that's what she truly believed." Time to put her on the spot, because I know deep down that Claire sensed that her mother knew exactly what was wrong. She puts her head down, and stares at the floor, finally biting her lip and saying a very quiet, "Yes." "Mom, I know what I want and I know that I will do all that I can to be the wife, the mother, and the daughter I believe I can be, because that's what Claire deserves and you and Dad deserve and Brad, and Jared and Allie, and this one here," I touch my hand to my stomach, "you all deserve it. And most importantly," I pause and take a breath, "I want it. I cannot tell you how much I've wanted it, more than anything else in the world." She looks at me again rather confused, but maybe with just a hint of acceptance and a pinch of understanding, and says, "But didn't that woman in Michigan, you said she had four children and a husband, and it sounds like it was at least a decent life, wasn't that enough? If what you say is true?" I take a deep breath, and say my words carefully, because we're about at the final moment when she will accept me, or not, and say quietly but forcefully, "Mom, I never said that person was the wife. He, I, wasn't" She looks at me again sort of blankly, again sort of confused, and says, "Oh." And then I see the realization coming across her face, "Oh!" She slumps back a little and says weakly, "You're, or I mean, you were, the husband." "Yes," I say, maybe with a sigh of relief, because I have now told somebody, but seeing the creeping fear in her eyes quickly continue, "but please think back on these several months and tell me, was there ever a time, a moment, you thought I was anything or anybody other than a woman, a mother, a wife? Maybe not exactly Claire as you remember her from before, but as a woman?" I think of everything during each day that I do, the cleaning, washing, cooking, dishes, the reminding, the gentle nagging, the remembering, the helping, the praising, the understanding, and the list goes on. And I think of how I viewed them in a previous life. Well, to tell the truth, I didn't. Exactly what part of many transgendered fantasies does vacuuming fall under? I realize now I don't either hate or love any of them, because this is something entirely different. I do them because that is who I am. It's a part of me. How could I ever dream of signing up for part of a life, and not accepting all of it? She pauses again and I can see she is trying to think, "Well..." "Is there, Mother?" I have to become insistent or this will fail miserably. She looks at me with resignation, and slowly exhales and says, "No, and I guess that' adds to why this story of yours is so hard to believe. I mean how could you have been a man all those years, and now you're being an almost ideal wife and mother? This all makes it all so hard to accept." I take a deep breath, because we're now at the exact moment that will either make or break our relationship, possibly even my life going forward, "Ideal? I don't know. But, all this really shouldn't be hard to accept. I said this is what I've wanted my whole life, my entire life, and now, I've been given a chance and I'm going to make it work beyond everyone's expectations including...especially my own," and I pause and then, straightening up, add more forcefully then I ever could imagine I would, "and you know, I can have very high standards." Now why did I say that, why did I move that way? That's sort of what I feel, but I would never have said it that way. She blinks and does a little start, finally looking at me with a little twinkle in her eye and a very small but noticeable smile starts at the corners of her mouth and works it way inwards, and it's as if she saw the old Claire for a moment and realizes she isn't totally gone and then says, "You may say or believe you're somebody else, or were somebody else, and maybe you are in a way, but that's the Claire I raised." I smile at her as I see she is really, really beginning to understand and accept it, "But these are standards only for myself, and I will have to work very hard to understand and accept and help others with what standards they want or need for themselves and even if they want my help, not what I expect out of them. I have to accept that I'm me, you're you, Brad is Brad." The twinkle continues, but the smile also grows as, after a moment of quiet thought, she says, "And that's the Claire I've been looking for." I think for a moment on what I said that Mom said sounded like the Claire she knew, and I finally realize something I had been confused about for the past several months, "Mom, I know who I am and where I came from, but I also know there is still a good part of me that was Claire and will always be. I just hope that I can be what she and I, both of us, have wanted, and I think," I pause as it sinks in, like a realization about who I am, or some past memories that are surfacing and have now become a part of me, "no, I absolutely feel it as deep in my body and mind as I possibly can, that it's the same, and I think we, or really, now, I, can be exactly that. Almost three months ago, we started over, we started then, as two, but we're one now, one person, now and for whatever life I have left. And I pray that you can understand that and accept me, as I am, with whatever past I do have." I pause and I search her eyes, her face for some acceptance, for some hope, finally saying, "Am I asking too much? Can you do that?" She definitely has tears in her eyes, and I can feel them coming in mine. "Oh, Claire, Claire, you're my daughter and you'll always will be. I'm not sure I fully understand, but I know and see that there has been a change, a change for the good, and whatever it was that caused it, I am thankful for it, and I will be eternally thankful that I did not lose you with that accident, and I realize now that it came very close to that." She pauses for a moment, in a little thought, then continues, "Brad really did see all what he saw, the blood and such, didn't he," she stops a moment, as if she is realizing more, and I nod, though I don't really need to. And she continues, "And I'll take you as you are right now, change or not, regardless of any past, because, I thought I had lost you once, and then almost once more, but I'm certainly not about to lose you again." She opens her arms and I just sort fall into a hug. At first, I'm not sure how it will work, but it's like some kind of memory pattern or something, and in a second she is hugging me and it feels so wonderful. I've bared my soul to someone and they are giving me the love that I was afraid wasn't there but that I needed so badly, a mother's love. My mother's. We hold each other for a time, and I say, "You've hugged me like this before, haven't you? When I was little?" "Oh, Claire, my little girl. Yes, and it's been much too long a time since the last time, I'll always love you, my darling daughter." "And I'll always love you, Mom." I hope wherever the Claire that was here once, is now, that she's somehow at least a little content and happy as I am now. I owe her a lot, because I'm so lucky to have so many caring people around me. We sit back and each takes a breath, and then Mom asks a little pensively, "Claire, if what you're saying is true, are you ready to have a baby? Now?" I smile as happily as I can, and say, "Mom, I have never been more ready in my life. Remember I've had some experience with four in a life, natural and induced, cloth and plastic, breast - not mine of course - and bottle, holding and walking an infant to calm it down at midnight, rashes, cuts, fevers, I've been there and felt and experienced each and every moment as best I could. I could tell you some real stories...but I won't. However, that doesn't mean I have all the answers. In so many ways, this will be an entirely new experience for me. One, I never even dared think would be possible, yet dreamed of. I do have seven months to work on it, but I know I'll still need help." And I look at her with a little hope. She gets teary eyed again and so do I as she says, "I do believe you are ready, as much as I've ever seen anyone. But, you know, if you do need help, please ask, I'll be here for you." "Thanks, Mom, I really do appreciate that. And you can count on it." "You said something about a second chance and how you're going to make the most of it. I guess you don't remember, but with Jared, there were a lot of problems, not with the delivery but between you and me. And I made some terrible mistakes." I start to say it's all right, but she stops me. "Yes I did, and I've always felt so bad. But thinking about this, it looks like both of us are getting a second chance, you to experience the joy of motherhood, and me to experience again my daughter's first child and my first grandchild. Not that I don't just love and adore both Jared and Allison, which I do, but this time, I understand, and hopefully without putting too much expectation on this, I think this is going to be wonderful." And the tears and hugs come again She looks at me as we break apart and quietly asks, "That other family. What's going to happen to them? Do you know?" I look at her so lovingly, "Mom, thank you so much for asking and your concern. Like I mentioned, I looked a little into it several weeks ago. There is really nothing I can do, nothing I can say. They don't know me, and any kind of contact I might make can only re-open all the grief they have suffered through. I can't do that. It's a past that I'll always cherish, but my future is here, with you and Dad, Brad, Allie, Jared, and this one." And, yes, there were surprises, when I finally looked. The outpouring of grief that I read was beyond anything I could ever have imagined. I never realized how many lives my former self had touched in some way, and they all responded. Besides the obituary which recounted a life that seemed to be so much more substantial than the one I believed that person had lived, there was an article in the local paper with comments from friends and associates, showing that this person had actually made an impact. I wept for several hours, finally releasing the grief which had been a part of me for much too long a time, about someone I had still cared deeply about, and had so misunderstood. I couldn't tell Brad when he came upon me, but he held me for a long time, which, finally, allowed me to begin saying my good-bye to someone very dear. And, which tonight, is now at an end, because while I now know that I am no longer that person, neither am I the Claire that was. She smiles and we hug again as she says, "Well, if the person I'm seeing now is anything at all like that parent, I think that family has been given a strong foundation." "I hope so." I do so very much hope that I can live up to what I read and now understand. It will take some work, but I feel I can do it. There's a knock on the door and a pleasant and familiar voice asks, "Is everything ok in there, you've both been in there a long time, and me and Brad are gettin' a mite worried." "Everything's great, Dad, just really wonderful!" I grab a Kleenex and wipe my eyes and hand one to Mom. As I get up and open the door after a moment, Mom says, "Oh, Joe, we've just been having some girl talk, haven't we, Claire, and it's been so nice to just talk about things. Yes, everything is just fine." I step up to Dad and looking up at him with a smile, say, "I was just telling Mom how much I love her, and I just want to say, I love you, too, Dad, more than you'll ever know." I give him a hug and a kiss on the cheek. He blushes and says, "oh, um, well, I, uh, love you, too, Claire," and finishes it with a little hug. But I can tell he really appreciates it, as does Mom. And I can see in his eyes that he is very thankful and relieved that whatever problems were between his daughter and her parents are now in the past, and they can again be a family. I still have a lot to learn about Claire's...no, MY life, but I can now count on my Mom and Dad to help along with the help that Brad and my children have been doing. I know now I can make it. "You both coming back to join the living?" Dad tries to make a joke. Mom glances at me getting a little nervous and says, "Joe!" But, as we leave the study, I tuck my arm in his, and quickly say, "I wouldn't want to miss the rest of my life for anything!" I turn back to my mother and smiling, say, "Mom, the holidays are coming up pretty quick, and Thanksgiving will be at your place. But, right now, I think I want to bake some Christmas cookies in the next several days. I could use some help, if you'd like?" As we come back into the living room, both Mom and Dad get broad smiles, like they've been waiting for years for their daughter to ask that, and Mom says, "I'd love to. What kind shall we start with? Chocolate chip? Oatmeal? Maybe some fudge?" "Oooh! Fudge sounds really yummy, but yes, those eventually, I was thinking actually something like molasses cookies." "Molasses? It's been a long time since I've tried that recipe, but that does sound nice. We can certainly try." "I'd like that because it's a part of me. And I need it." "Claire, if it's a part of you, then it's now a part of us, so we'll do it." "Thanks, Mom," and she can see the love I have for her is real. This is my present and my future life, and it's what I am and will be. And she and Dad, Brad, Jared, and Allie are my life, and the love I have for them is as real as I am. "And I'm still the official taster tester!" Dad says, not understanding what we just said, as he finds a comfortable chair to sit down in. Brad gets up and joins us saying, "Did I hear someone talking about home baked cookies?" Both Allie and Jared, who are still in the living room say, "Cookies! Yay! Cool!" "I think you're going to have three others here that will challenge you for that job, Dad - Jared, Allie and Brad here - but I'm sure we can work out something for all four of you," and I wink at Mom. Allie comes up and gives me a hug and with open innocence says, "I love you, Mom. I'm so glad you're all better." "Thank you, Allie, I'm glad too, and I love you too, pook," I say, passionately and truly, as I put my arm around her, wondering where that last word came from, yet, Allie and the others just smile and she hugs me tighter, like it's a part of our lives. Jared hesitantly comes up and says, "So am I." I can see the love he's trying to express in his eyes and the smile I had for Allie now takes him in. "Come here, there's room for you." And I put an arm around him. Brad is right next to me and he slips his arm around me, "Room for me, too?" "Yes," I say very lovingly as I look up at him, "there's always room for all of you...and room for another, too, I'm sure. I love all of you," I say with a smile that takes them all in, and which Brad lovingly and knowingly returns. Allie and Jared look at me a little questioningly, but there's plenty of time to tell them. Mom gives me a wink back, and a wide smile, that knowing, caring, loving smile of a mother that just always brightens up the lives of her children, and right now, especially me, her daughter, Claire. Epilog - A Life Giving Moment Seven months later, after morning sickness, mood swings, yearnings for odd foods, uncomfortable feelings in any clothes or outfits, laying in bed with Brad and having him feel the movements of the life inside of me, one day I start my usual daily chores and realize that something is different. And in a moment, I just know. After getting Allie and Jared off for their last day of school, Brad starts to go off to work and I snuggle into his arms say with a smile and a sigh as I look up into his so handsome face, "I think today is the day." "Should I stay home? Should we call the hospital?" Brad says with a little bit of a wild look. "No, you go on to work. I can't be sure, but just be ready if I call, ok?" I say sweetly and very contentedly. Brad feels me relax and understands that I always seem to know what I'm doing, and says as we kiss and he leaves, "Okay, I guess, but promise me that you'll call me immediately if anything changes." "I promise, and I will." Yes, things are changing. Here I'm almost thirty-eight and I'm having a baby. And I can feel the contractions starting to come a little more frequently but not yet consistently. And while I knew they would come, they are so totally unlike anything I ever imagined. I'm both terribly excited and terribly scared. In that darkest corner of my mind, where I seldom even venture, this was what I had always dreamed about and wanted. Yet, it all came so quickly just over nine months ago. Could it also leave as quickly? I don't know. Well, I can't fret over things I have no control. Time to get the house ready and me ready. But like my mother and I agreed those many months ago, I am ready, aren't I. Early that afternoon, the contractions start coming just a little more often and regular, and I feel something happening and I make it to the bathroom but just barely as my water breaks. I slowly clean it up after calling Brad, and calling Dr. Williams' office. By the time Brad gets home I know it's time, as the contractions are regular now and a little over five minutes apart. Brad, of course is very excited, but my calmness helps him. We go to the hospital and I am admitted immediately and taken to a labor room. Jared and Allie arrive a little later as do Mom and Dad but they stay in the waiting area. A resident examines me, and checks the sonogram and says, "Everything looks good; I don't foresee any problems." "Good," I sigh. "I want this naturally if possible." Dr. Williams arrives then and they agree that I'm in good condition and so is the baby and they'll see how it goes. Dr. Williams takes over and, besides me, it's just him and two nurses and Brad in the labor room. After a few minutes, it gets quite painful as Dr. Williams checks and says, "You're dilating a little more rapidly that usual, but that's not bad, as long as you can handle it. I guess the baby really wants to come out. It's in a good position and all signs say it's healthy. The pain gets a little intense (no, really a lot!), as I try all the breathing and focusing exercises that Brad and I worked on over the past several months. I wonder if they actually work, or will I be split wide open. At about two hours after we arrived, and to me it feels like about a week of pain and not trying to push and then starting to, Dr. Williams says, "Okay, now we're going to need you to really push like I've explained." I think, 'I'd like to push you right out the window, if you think I haven't been.' But I bear down, focus all the energy I have left (which is none) and try my best. "Here we go, here's the head. Brad would you like to see this?" "No, thanks, I'll stay right here." He continues holding my hand as I squeeze it unbelievably tight. I don't care where he goes right now. I just want this over, but it seems it will last forever. My headache ten months ago was nothing compared to this. "Okay, now one more push, please." The head and arms are out, and now for some reason the pain is just terribly intense instead of impossibly intense, and Dr. Williams smiles and says, "That's wonderful, Claire, she's out. And a very healthy baby at that!" A little baby girl. I think I'm going to cry. From the sonograms, we figured it was, but until it comes, you're never really sure. I just crumple up into the bed, totally exhausted. "Just once more, Claire, you can do it." I cannot possibly do anything as I think of names and how she'll be and how she'll look, but somewhere I get that last push, and out comes the placenta. Dr. Williams smiles at me which I can see even though he is wearing that mask, "Do you want to cut the cord?" I whisper, "Brad, you...?" He does and they place the little girl on my stomach as I lay there, with the tears now streaming down my face. I don't care, because I look down at her and she is so small, so tiny, so indescribably beautiful, and she came from me, me and Brad, and I was there when we created her, and when she was born. Me. Claire. Apologia This story is again from the heart with some of the events being based on real life. It's so much easier to write that way because I know - and can feel - just how true they are. I did take the liberty here of allowing one unexplained occurrence, and again, I don't believe it was magic. Some people feel that a case can be made for re-incarnation in the real world. I have no idea if that really takes place, but no one believes it to be 'magic'. So, I suppose one might consider this to be some form of re-incarnation if one chooses. Much as many may want to believe, not everything can easily be explained by science. Completing this has given me ideas for a future story, exploring similar themes, but with all events being natural.