I always wished that I had been a part of that family, the Waltons. This TV series was a favorite of mine back some thirty years ago. In a sense that is what I had until adolescence when family members began to die and I reached pubescence and learned what difference meant. There are very few family situations anything like that on Walton’s Mountain. And think too what it would mean to be gay on Walton’s Mountain, in the Brady Bunch, in a Little House on the Prarie, etc. It is funny when you think about it.
I spoke with my daughter this morning on the phone. She called to tell me that she has an important job interview in Hershey Pa. next weekend and to bring me up to date on the rapid changes that our family has been undergoing in this last year. My third grandchild, Samuel was born last August 4 and it seems since then it has been a constant stream of change and uncertainty. To make a long story short, my only daughter now married with three children and her husband have decided for very real reasons to turnabout and change the course of their lives- Not because things have not been good but simply because that is the best decision now. Ours is a fortunate family, very flexible, very extended, very open and I think more prepared for change than many. I have never liked change but I feel now in my life that I have never been so good at dealing with it.
Any way, change does bring stress and I am, however flexible, still very stressed out about so much change all happening so fast. “The kids” as I call my daughter, her husband, and the children, lumping them all into one identity, have successfully sold the house in New York for a small fortune in my reality and are now moving on to the next phase which is to relocate to less taxes, better schools, and a less hectic lifestyle. I am projecting all over the place and am very anxious as I really want this geographical and lifestyle change to happen. The “kids” will then only be an hour away. I have that illusion of a sort of Walton’s Mountain in my sites. It would not be anything like that mythical place but it could make a big difference in the imprint I am able to leave on my grandchildren. It will enable me to be closer in person as well as spirit.
Being a gay dad and a gay granddad is never easy. You want to be, even more than the others involved, a so called typical family member up there on the mountain, loving and being loved, in the same way and with the same interactions as the others. I speak of the whole wide extended family; the “kids”, the grandparents, the x and her x’s, the cousins, brothers, sister in laws, your significant other and his children and his family – the hundred or so people involved. But to be gay is to be different. This is a fact. I have learned that if I want to be loved, accepted, and respected in this community up there on that mountain in the clouds, I must show my love, accept myself, insist on respect, and earn it. I can not be contained. As I spend a lifetime discovering what it is to be gay, I need to be certain I openly share that experience with all the other members of the family that lives on that mountain that exists only in the mind.

I did not get a reply to this so I will reply to myself and bring this story up to date. It seems that Walton's Mountain is closer to a reality. My daughter baring any unforseen problems will be taking the job in Hershey and I will now be only a little over an hour from my three grandchildren.
This is what I wished for and now we shall see. I am going up to Bronxvilln NY the weekend of Feb. 12th for the Christening of the new born baby Samuel. My ex will no doubt be there. And so, she re-enters my life to some degree after so many years. We have seen one another maybe six times in the last twenty years, we correspond occasionally by e-mail and we agree to disagree amiably on many fronts.
The thing is that I feel so very different than back then in the days of Middle Earth. I pick up that she is still very stuck back there. I try to empathize but enough amends have been made and bottom line she is IMO stuck in a "victim" role that gets rather tiresome and to which I do not address any longer. I suspect things will be bumpy for awhile.
I am the odd one out if you know what I mean but feel in many respects the best one in in so far as influencing the development of the kids while respecting everyone concerned. The Gay Grandfather...hmm! How will we contain him especially given who he is? They shall not, I promise you. I have all the rights and, yes, the restraints and boundaries of any other grandparents, straight or gay. My fear is that I will have to make this clear.
Any way, this is mere projection and today the gods are good and Alexander humors me. Heph :-)

Well, the saga goes on. The daughter has the job but does not know if she will take it!!!
Immediately after the house was sold a major leak developed to the tune of a couple of grand which created all sorts of STRESS in the decision making process! Do we do this as it means that the husband who is a bankruptcy lawyer is out of work while my daughter who has the offer but wants to stay at home to care for three toddlers all aged under six has a job and around and around we go!
Meanwhile, everyone- meaning the parents and kids disappear for a whole week! They do not answer the phone. They respond to my ex wife's e-mail only a few days after vanishing and I leave messages that to my reality are about important business matters centered aroung the premise that should they move to Hershey then I will help with the kids while Daddy looks for a job and mommy starts up her new job at Hershey.
Act 111 scene 11. My ex and I are now communicating regularly on the phone trying to figure our how we "but out" while "butting in". We are "talking" and "getting along" and are of the same mind. Oh my! How life does come round. Anyway, I have been having about three panic attacks a day while I wait upon the answer to "Will there be a Walton's Mountain or Not!".
My ex is going to the Christening of Sammie and I have lovingly decided that I will not! I am quite honest with my daughter and when "we" got back from our little "get away from it all" six day vacation to the Carribean with no excuses for having done precisely what I asked her not to do which is "keep me out of the loop", I told her that I felt that I would not walk upon a mine field. She has no idea, I think, how upset she had us and never felt she had isolated as she did! Totally clueless and atypical behavior! Anyway, I assured her that it is not out of anger or certainly for the want of not being there that I choose to not appear but because if they are still stressed- can you imagine My ex and I in the same house and of the same opinion trying to not influence the situation! I think not.
Actually, by the tone of my daughter's voice I could tell that as usual she agreed and was grateful that I as usual am so practical and honest.
We are a marvelous family albeit disfunctional! We know more than most the dysfunction of the family. We will survive but I somehow think it will not be on Walton's Mountain.

This message has been edited. Last edited by: Heph,

You're not talking to yourself, silly. I'm reading, but I haven't got a clue where to start replying! lol But you know Gracie wasn't in the Walton house, right? She was busy with George in the big city.

I used to think of my family as the Waltons, my five siblings and I. Oddly enough I felt closest to them recently at the funeral of a grandmother that I find I barely knew (Our father was one of 12 children... imagine all her grand and great grand kids!)

But the days of my own grand children are still a ways off (OH GOD I HOPE!) since my oldest is only 15. Already I can picture some of it and you make me smile to think of all the life and lives that lie ahead.

Keep talkin', Gracie. I have much to learn and You make me glad to be here.

Son of Walt. I see that by your reference you glimmered a little of “the man behind the curtain”. I had deleted that part of the last entry as it is one of those “family affairs” that is too convoluted and requires so much explanation in the end and thought better of sharing it. Alas, in the end, people withdrawal thinking it is exaggerated and invented. It is not but it is of no consequence to others. I will say this. To know one’s roots is to know oneself thoroughly for all the good and bad of it. It is marvelously entertaining as well, and is a rock on which you build a family not to mention some good poetry. With that said and so as not to confuse the readers any further I will ask Gracie who is my alter ego to these lonely entries to say good night in a final refrain. LOL!
Now, regarding Walton’s Mountain and where this now rests suspended between acts. Much has happened and I wonder if in the end I will not have a book to publish as it goes on and on and on and I can not blame gay fathers for thinking gay grandfathers too difficult to follow. My dear gentlemen, to where do you think you journey and like all the young do you think it so far away? Hear me when I say you are there in the twinkle of an eye. The joys and the tribulations of being a gay dad have evolved into the joys and tribulations of being a gay granddad. I will have my revenge I suppose when you all catch up. That is sooner than you know. Anyway I digress but I have the time that comes with age to do so and so be patient and read on.
The whole kit a kaboddle gets back from their disappearance and after facing the wrath of the elders where I think is where we left off we proceded on. I did indeed refrain from the Christening of Sammie which did however happen. Now if you will recall, NYC had about 28 inches of snow on the ground of the morning but nothing stops the ladies from making the wedding, graduations, brunches, and in this case Christenings happen and so it did. I just happened to call the house that morning, the morning of Feb. 12, 2006, and of course who picked up but the ex who as I say is now upon more congenial ground and so I was quickly told that indeed we were all of us who were there about to plow our way to the church to throw a snowball on the forehead of my grandson and dub him another Knight of Christ. Christ is think this silly and a good way to catch a cold but I am a small voice in a large choir and in any event it is done. The father’s brother had flown in on one of the many planes this family frequents direct to you from the Napa Valley. He is a sommelier if that is the correct spelling for a recovering alcoholic who is a rather prominent wine taster. Do your taste buds bud Son of Walt?
White I have you I wonder if you know what are the best restaurants in the Hershey area, for eventually we feast?.
And so let me bring you halfway up the mountain. The daughter has finally deftly maneuvered by the fraught parents and I remind you again grandparents into taking the job. We were afraid she would do what we had brought her up to do which is very romantic but can not be done until the check has cleared metaphorically speaking; a historic dilemma the bane of all romantics and a difficult juggling act. And do she is to be the Director of Innovations for New Platforms for the Willie Wonka Candy Factory and sit at a corporate round table her dreams of freedom clipped at least for now until we get the mess better sorted.
The Escape from New York will be quick and fraught as is everything about this saga. The buyers of Tara want a tour of the ins and outs of the furnace and the oven and we have too many secret leaks concealed and must contrive to keep the owners off of and out of their properties until we are sure all is dry.
I learn too that the eldest my little Aquitaine is leaking more than the foyer for fear of the change in her circumstances. She is in pre pre school having already done pre school inbetween ballet and Jamborie and has already a boy friend at aged five she must leave in the lurch breaking the first of many hearts including her own.
The middle one sits in a corner and watches us all go by a great grandchild of Peter O’Toole and Kate Hepburn who had to learn to plat a scheme being caught in the middle so. She is loved none the less for it and will make a good ambassadress to wherever or will be married off suitably when the time comes. The heir is still too young to know or feel anything ‘cept droplets of cold water upon his forhead and so is carried upon the mother’s back or is it the tummy today. It is in some sort of sack and will be brought out later after the family has secured the top of the mountain. Oh how I wish this were Brokeback Mountain and a different metaphor altogether.
I motor to Hershey this weekend to care and tend for the three little ones while the big ones interview for yet another nanny. We though we were through with Nanny’s when we sought to flee the environs of the Big Apple but alas we need retainers and I can not handle these hosts having a castle of my own to attend, many businesses and interests unique to me, and although I will be but an hour’s drive away it is all too cattywampus nevertheless. My significant other hides in a closet hoping to catch me and drag me in for but a moment together other than the horrid ritual of Valentine’s Day. At least, I think I last saw Rudy in the closet not yet all the way out but getting there.
Now, the following weekend is the move. In two weeks time we have the move. The move is done by proletariats who specialize in what is referred to as “the move”. The move will take several days of packing and then after the conveyance several days unpacking. My daughter has told me I may be needed for “the move” but she is not quite sure yet in what capacity. As the move will no doubt involve muscular, adroit, agile and handsome illegal immigrants [I hope Mexicans. I do like a good Mexican cuisine] I figure something of at least fanciful amusement will come of this and so I do not protest. To protest is futile when a grandparent anyway so prepare yourselves.
And that is the simplicity of it as it stands now except to tell you that the family is renting a rancher for six months until they have some idea of what has happened to them and can think straight enough [I never bother to thank god] to either buy what they want or build. My son-in-law’s father was a builder and Sam is a wood be Frank Lloyd Wright but that is for chapter 12 to come and I believe we are on but three or four. By the by, we forgot to tell you that we must now sort Sam as this lawyer will be in need of a new position. Have no fear, chapters seven or eight will follow and in the end it will all come right for we are a marvelous family on the sea of life.
I leave it, here. I know now I have one attendant and hope he will take pity and know the reason my poems have gone all cattywampus of late. I think sonofwalt that I begin to get the hang of open and free prose! It is why I bother to write this, that and in the hopes it may serve some other poor wretch in some way. Heph:

And I lift a glass to you too, Grandpa Heph!

It's lovely though to know that there is still so much more ahead even when they've grown. I know every dad here hopes to keep in touch with his children better than we do with our own parents (at least I feel that way).

I am about an hour north of Hershey, but I'll look into the restaurant question for you!

Hugs

Well, I find this an excellent diary in which sonof walt peeks. LOL! Sooner than later someone else here will relate or even remember “Walton’s Mountain”.
Anyway, on with the saga;
Rudy and I motored over the Bethesda to see Woody Allen’s new movie on Wed. and to celebrate his birthday. The movie which I can not think of the name of at the moment is excellent. After emerging into the rain I took a cell phone call from my daughter who let me know that she and the kids had just left NYC-forever, so to speak. I love these important calls we take in the rain on the street nowadays! I could tell she was upset and so I did that rare thing that parents do and asked “are you upset?”-“Yes, it was hare”
I knew it would be even though the house was trying to “get them” towards the end what with the leak in the foyer, the fence that had just been blown down by the wind, and so on. The last nanny, Megan, who is a writing major at that famous school in Bronxville that I can never remember the name of and always want to call Sarah Coventry LOL was particularly hard to part from. She had lived in the house for nearly a year, was the best on caregivers, and beloved by us all. Megan we were told by the movers the next day had been in tears for well near an hour after the convoy had left. She became very close to the children and I do not think that the kids know yet that she is for all intents and purposes gone. Megan had been their third nanny. They will now get a fourth. It is a whole subculture that exists in “Yuppieland” and is a story unto itself. Moving on, I comforted my daughter, Trissa, on the phone on the street in the rain about this “closure” with the nanny, and the house, and NYC and told here that, indeed, yes I could come up the next day to help with the unloading of the van. This would take two days. It had taken two days to load. In “Yuppieland” the company to which you are coming will usually pay for the move. It is all done very professionally. They had two movers who were very likable and one of which spoke a language he made up as he went along-not to us but in chattering to himself. He was so good at it, I wondered if he was not a poet. He was a linguistically talented proletariat and like me a coffee addict. I am a poet and so I liked him. Neither man was the proverbial “hunk” one wishes for in the mover but was comfortable, personable, and very sweet sort of like sugar cookies.
I have spent the last two days then helping to “move in” to a rancher which if I liked ranchers at all I would like very much. I bonded with the children and reflected upon the closing of chapters and the opening of them. After two days of helping to move in and “bonding” more deeply, I am exhausted!
I did accomplish my hidden agenda though. All gay parents and grandparents have them, although not all will admit it. I learned that my daughter trusts me more with some information than with my ex.-not for lack of love but simply because ex is excessively co-dependent and as I am too co-dependent but less so and as Sam the husband and Daddy also had co-dependent parents, Trissa and Sam are very much to themselves and private in certain areas less they be consumed by their never ending parents. You will see, if you are excessively co-dependent. I digress. I was therefore, happy to learn that I am one up on the ex. The competition does not stop. It is not normal that it should. You must maneuver and fight for your place in the pecking order. Being gay can make you feel as though you are less when in fact this is in your head and no one else’s. You see, the second thing I learned was that Trissa assumed that the “world” recognized the relationship between Rudy and I much in the same way it would a normal marriage. I asked her in what world she was living and set her straight [no pun intended] about some current events. You see, life and reality in “Yuppieland” are not what they are elsewhere. It is another land with different beliefs and realities. Bottom line was that it was good to also see how validating Trissa was of my relationship with Rudy which is about five years now. Remember too, though, that I had been with Tom my first significant other for twenty three years and as this was Trissa’s childhood, she sees gay relationships as rather normal. Would that Bushmen did. I also learned that my son-in-law is very addicted to the children. Children can be an addiction in case you did not know this. I would rather have his overprotective than vice versa though so this will do. It can be a problem in some areas though. I also learned that he is a “pack rat” finding it hard to throw anything away. My daughter being my daughter simply pushes forward and things vanish in due time. Otherwise, the next move which will be in about six months time as they are renting would require two vans. Finally, I learned that as I suspected and said so, Sam would like to build a house! Oh my God! Will they ever settle?
Today, I rest and await the next chapter to enfold. Heph :-)