Bye Big Sister

The older one gets, the more used to "goodbyes" they become.

I'm only 52, and I've lost so many friends for so many reasons.  Most due to transition (yeah, I know- "not really friends" and all that); some to distance; others still because we no longer work together and our circles just no longer intersect.  I've lost far too many to Death already.  Seems to be a curse: friends of mine die young.  Maybe that's one of the reasons I never had many friends.

In any case, I've often written about my "Big Sister" Mel.  From Codex Sophie:  Mel transitioned in 2003.  She is an incredibly intelligent woman, and very plain spoken.  My therapist asked Mel to advise and mentor me, and we've become good friends.  I wouldn't be where I am today with out her candid, sometimes brutal, advice.  Mel is very good friends with Donna Rose, who was HER big sister.

I met Mel in 2009, at Angela's Laptop Lounge.  She came specifically to meet me, she said.  She didn't do many transgender events anymore, as she was pretty much stealth.  That said, she loved Southern Comfort Conference, where she saw many friends (she and I roomed together at my only SCC in 2013.)

Dr. Osborne asked her to advise me since, when Mel transitioned, she had two young children.  When I started seeing Dr. Osborne, my daughter was just over a year old.  Aside from Laptop, I would see Mel once a month or so.  We'd go to lunch or happy hour.

She taught me many important lessons.  The most important was "Transition should be the last resort.  Don't transition unless you have no other choice."  She was absolutely right.  When I decided to transition, it was a decision literally between Transition vs Blow my head off.  (I've written about this a few times.)

Our relationship started as a "mentor-student" thing.  Eventually, it evolved to a solid friendship.  She is one of the most intelligent people I know (she predicted the crash of 2008 years before it happened, and exactly how it would happen.)  She worked on Wall Street in the early 80s, and does she ever have stories!  I keep telling her she should write a book, but she modestly demurs.  Aside from finance, she is a scholar of religious history.  Oh, and, like me, she's a MAJOR Bob Dylan fan.

She and I don't always see eye-to-eye.  Her politics are moderate/right (Rockefeller Republican), but she quit the party years ago, and hates what the party has become.  She's not shy when it comes to telling me when I screw up, yet she's always there to help me sort things out as well.

The day I was thrown out of MIL's house, I called both my therapist and Mel.  I went over to Mel's apartment, where we talked and I cried and cried.  God, that was a horrible day!

There was a bright spot: while I was walking from the car to Mel's door, I received an email telling me that I'd been accepted into Vanity Club.  On any other day, I would've been ecstatic.  But not that day.

On December 10, 2012, I was serving my license suspension.  Mel drove me to the Mazzoni Center, where I received my first prescription for HRT: Hormone Replacement Therapy.

She's been a rock on which I could depend.

Now, she's moving home.

Her elderly mother is ailing, and needs help, so Mel is moving back to her hometown in upper New York State.

We'll still talk, of course.  And text.  But there's nothing like face to face, and that will be VERY rare for a while, if not for good.

Heading out to see Mel last Monday.

Last Monday, we got together one last time at McKenzies.  (We used to go to Shangrila, but it closed.  She loved the sushi there.)  We had a drink or two, had some appetizers, talked a bit like we always did, and then parted.  I took a picture of the two of us, but I won't post it.  She's very strict about that- no pictures.  We hugged, and, when we were getting into our respective cars, I turned and thanked her for everything she's done for me.

She knows how I think of her.  I just wanted to say it publically as well.

Be well, Mel.  You're one of the main reasons that I'm alive to write this today.