This week I’ve had a mountain for which I’m grateful. Out of the blue, I received a response to a post I made asking for info about Uncle Trevor. All of that is better off in another blog, but this man unwittingly flung open a door and shed light on a life I never knew.
Although the end of Trevor’s life was fraught and isolated, this kind stranger has shared his photos, his memories and contacted friends who knew Trevor – all to show me that, at one time, he enjoyed life to the full.
I didn’t realise, until I typed that paragraph, how grateful I am for the time in which I live. Things aren’t perfect – I still face homophobic abuse, there will still be people who literally hate me and want me dead because of my sexuality – but I know that I have a strong core of people who love me and who will do their utmost to fight for me. I also now have something I think my uncle lost or never had – a sinewy streak of love and pride for myself that protects me from thinking that I’m worthless.
Maybe that was the gift he gave me.