Oct. 1: Mom’s birthday, dad’s funeral

October 1 is the day I remember my parents. Both are deceased. But my mother’s birthday was Oct. 1, 1941, and my father was buried on Oct. 1, 2015.

Family couldn’t help but joke at the visitation that the funeral was a birthday gift to my mother, who married and divorced my dad twice. They had a very violent marriage and it kind of messed me up as a kid. I couldn’t wait to graduate high school and move out of the house. In fact, I ended up moving out a year earlier – my junior year – and renting a room from my cousin. Even at age 17, I worked at the newspaper and had an income.

Now I miss my parents dearly. I don’t dwell on the violence. I know they were proud of me for graduating college even if they were extremely disappointed when I came out as gay.

Before the death of my parents, October always was my favorite month. It still is, as I no longer grieve that they’re gone because I realize they’re in a better place. My mother died of breast cancer at age 53. I was 25 then in 1995.

'Happy birthday, Barbara'

“Happy birthday Barbara,” the relatives joked casketside at dad’s visitation. I took my father’s death very badly. In fact, I lost my mind after his death, sold the family home, and moved to Denver, where I became homeless rather quickly as the little bit of money I got from selling my house ran out. I was out of my mind and made a lot of foolish decisions.

My parents spent so much time fighting with each other they did not pay a lot of attention to me. I was expected to entertain myself. Yet I also was spoiled and had all the latest toys. Seldom did I yearn for anything as a child, except for peace and quiet. My parents brutally beat each other for many years, and me, too.

But there’s a certain peace in knowing the worst of them did not erase the best of me. I’m not good at relationships, but I’m a good person. My parents raised me to be honest, humble (my dad used to scold me for being “cocky”) and I’ve never stolen anything in my life. I’m God fearing, too and believe in self-discipline even if I’m not very good at it. I haven’t lived life on the straight and narrow, but I also haven’t compromised my values.

A disease called FTD

My dad died of a rare brain disease called frontotemporal degeneration, behavioral variant, or BvFTD. Bruce Willis has the same disease except not the behavioral variant kind. His type initially affects the ability to understand speech.

My dad had incredibly angry, violent behaviors for many years. He mellowed out as the disease slowly made his brain shrink. He died a horrible death, really, losing his faculties completely in three years. He even forgot how to swallow. He was mute the last two weeks of his life. When he took his last breath, his leg shot into the air like a gymnast. “Sorry boys, sometimes it’s not peaceful,” the nurse told my brother and me.

Mom's birthdays at Red Lobster

Memories of Oct. 1 when mom was living are good. We used to go to Red Lobster for her birthday dinner. Sometimes we would go to dinner theater or a movie on her birthday. She also got dressed up and looked very nice. She was a very feminine woman despite working with a bunch of butchers in the meat department of the grocery store.

Some of the best and worst memories I have from my childhood were made when my family went on vacation with my aunt, uncle, and cousins. We drove from Illinois all the way down to Miami. My parents never made hotel reservations, so we had to sleep poolside at motels a couple of nights. My parents fought bloody murder, with mom accusing dad of being a cheapskate for not getting us a room.

Tropical trips with my mom

A couple of years after we took the road trip to Florida, my mother flew me to Florida, just the two of us. I was so excited to ride on an airplane. And we stayed at a nice hotel in Fort Lauderdale, just my mother and I. Several years after that she took me to Jamaica. We made great memories there, too. She let me drink Pina Coladas.

The day we buried my dad was a pretty day, just as all those Oct. 1 birthdays we celebrated with my mother were sunny and pleasant. Today in Denver, it’s beautiful, too. And I feel grateful that my mom and dad are at peace.