No Mistakes

Nineteen years ago, a couple of weeks after my mother died I decided to tell my dad I was gay. If you’ve read the last couple of posts, it should not have come as a surprise. Suann was omnipresent in our lives. I was my dad’s second in command when it came to helping my mom out. I saw her every day and often spent at least one night a week “Bunny/Mom sitting” so my dad could go bowling. Suann never complained and joined us when work allowed.

I was at home, watching the Mets play a spring training game when I got up and told Suann it was time to come out to my dad. If I remember correctly, she was a bit surprised, asked if I wanted some company (“Nope. Need to do this on my own,”) and wished me luck.

I knew he would be home because, well, the Mets were on. I can’t tell you how many games we watched together over the years- he was a Met fan, so I was, too. Ever since I can remember. 

I arrived about the 6th inning which meant all the regulars were out and minor leaguers had taken over the game. I turned down the volume and explained we had some talking to do - or more specifically, I had some sharing to do.

I’m not sure why I knew this Sunday afternoon was the right time. We had been through hell together with my mom and here I was laying out my biggest secret to a man who had just lost his wife and best friend. He looked at me and I looked at him and we talked about timing (why didn’t I come out when Mom was still alive), about how the church he is a fervent supporter of thinks I am morally reprehensible, about who knew and who didn’t (I didn't officially come out to my siblings until after this conversation, though they were well aware of things). And then he had one request, “Will you please call Father Gilbert?”

Father Gilbert is a priest who came and said mass at the house during my mother’s illness. He is kind and holy and loving. I agreed as I knew my dad just needed someone to talk to.

When I explained I had finally come out to my dad Father Gilbert was surprised, "He didn’t know?”

Yes, Father Gilbert knew because every time he said mass and Suann was there he would ask her if she brought her guitar and what we were singing. He saw her as who she was/is - a vital cog in the crazy Coupe family.

Then he told me, “Don’t worry I’ll take care of everything.”

And he did. His message to my dad was simple, “Jesus doesn’t make mistakes. Love Amy the same way you always have.”

And that's exactly what Wally has done. He has loved me. He has loved Suann. Occasionally we would come home to a message, "Hi Amy and Suann it's Dad. Just wanted to let you know I thanked God for you today. You have taught me so much about tolerance and love."

This man who I alternately call Dad, Pops, Wally, has always been my hero. He looks at the world with love and the people around him return that love. It's a beautiful thing. 

LIFE IS RANDOM LOVE IS NOTTM