Last weekend we headed north to join in celebrating the 6oth birthday of Sally’s brother in law. Mine as well.
The celebration itself was at the local golf club.
We dropped by on Saturday afternoon mid way through the inflating of balloons, setting up of sound systems and laying of tables.
I sat down with a beer. Sally’s sister, P, came and sat by me.
“I have a joke for you.”
Recently a group of transgendered folk had their first meeting at the hall of the church where she goes.
She was at a meeting on the same evening, and she needed another table.
The vicar had asked people to be sensitive and not pester the transgendered group. After all, it was their first meeting and they might be a little nervous.
In the end, though, P went and asked if they had a spare table.
The person that P asked said she should check with the organiser.
At which point P smiled a little bemusedly since the only people in sight were ladies.
P asked me a little about my “hobby”. Which made me smile.
It was a short conversation. A small event in many ways. And yet, it was a big event as well. The first conversation with a non-immediate relative that has acknowledged this part of me.
One strange kind of thing is knowing that some people know a little of Andrea, but not knowing who knows what and who doesn’t know anything.
The cat is certainly out of the bag, but I’m not sure about who has spotted it yet, nor how much of it they have seen.
Actually, I don’t really mind who knows.
But, I hope that people that know things will be able to avoid the temptation to jump to conclusions. That they’ll be able to ask. To challenge. To find out.
Later in the evening J came to say hello.
She mentioned that she’d heard that I didn’t go to church any more and wondered if I minded talking about it … and why?
It was too late to talk much … but we talked a little. Just the beginnings of a conversation. We’ll talk again. It was nice that she wanted to know.