Sleep in the Stars, Big Sister

My "Big Sister", mentor, and one of my dearest friends, Mel, died on the morning of March 20, 2026.  She was 67, and been battling early onset Alzheimers.  

With Mel, June 2010

I had been at the Keystone Conference for the day to reconnect with friends.  I came back to State College and went across the street to my local pub to enjoy a glass of wine.  It was a rare moment- I felt content.  I felt I looked good.  

Then I checked my phone.  My email.  

Hi Sophie,

I hope you are well. This is Melissa's son, Mitch again. Unfortunately, I'm writing with some sad news. My father passed away this morning. As you know, she had been sick for a while, so it's in many ways a blessing that she's passed on. 

 And in a moment, I went blank.  I knew this was coming for more than a year.  But I hoped the day would never arrive.  As I was sitting at a semi-crowded bar, face covered in makeup, I fought back tears.  I paid my tab and walked out slowly.  I had to- I was wearing heels for the first time in forever.  Told you I felt good about my look.  I made it to the rainy sidewalk when the tears finally won.  The cliche- crying in the rain.  I could feel Mel's eyeroll from across the veil.  

I finally put up my umbrella and slowly walked back to the apartment.  All I could think about was her laugh.  The spark in her eyes that said "I know so much more than I'm telling you."  The smell of the lasagna she'd make when she invited me to dinner.  The stories she'd tell...

And so I cried.  

I slowly undressed, hung up my dress, tossed the bra onto the dresser...and laid on my bed and let the feelings flow.  "Let them out- there's nothing stopping you now.  You don't have to pretend to be a man anymore" she would tell me.  

After a bit, I emailed the news to he person who "assigned" Mel to me- my former therapist, Dr. Osborne.  As I wrote years ago, when Mel moved to Albany, 

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. 

She moved to Albany to care for her ailing mother- who was dying from Alzheimers.  Did Mel know then?  When did she find out? 

She left in November of 2018.  Over seven and a half years ago.  I never saw her again.  Now, the next time I see her will be if her funeral is open casket.  Which I doubt.  

Our last drink.  November 2018.  

Oh, we talked of course.  She sent out almost daily commentaries on the news.  Her analysis, especially on financial policy.  You see, she was a gifted financial genius.  Seriously.  She made millions on Wall Street in the 80s.  

Those emails stopped in 2021.  Is that when she learned?  Or is that when she just... couldn't any more.  

The calls became less frequent.  And she didn't return messages.  Did I offend her?  In December 2024, I sent an email.

Hi Mel!

I haven't heard from you in forever, and the # I have goes right to VM.  I'm worried about you.  

Are you still there?

A week later, I received a reply.  

Hi Sophie,

This is ****, Mel's son. I hope you are well. I, unfortunately, have some sad news, and I apologize for not reaching out sooner. 

My dad was diagnosed with early onset dementia this past winter, and it's progressed pretty rapidly since. My sister and I moved her into an assisted living facility in March and into a memory care facility in North Jersey in August. She currently seems to have stabilized a bit and is doing okay with both good days and bad days. 

Unfortunately, one of her symptoms is pretty serious aphasia, and, as you've already experienced, another one of her symptoms is forgetting to charge her phone and generally not understanding how to work it. So in general, she is pretty hard to get a hold of and understand. However, if you want to send her a card, her address is 

*****

I was planning to give her a call tomorrow or Friday, and when I do, I'll be sure to mention that you reached out. I'm sure she'll really appreciate it, and I know I do too! 

I wrote a letter.  Trashed it.  Tried again.  And again.  I needed to tell her how much she meant to me.

January 12, 2025

Dear Mel,

            I’m writing just in case life keeps me from visiting you in NJ.  I’ll get to possible impediments in a bit.  In any case, I feel it’s important to tell you a few things.  Your son Mitch told me of your condition, and that this is the reason you’ve been incommunicado.  I’m so very sorry. 

            What I want to say (and hopefully I’ll see you to tell you personally) is how much you have meant to me all these years.  Without your help, support, and friendship, I literally would not be alive today.  You guided me through countless dark times and helped me celebrate victories.  I love talking about movies and music with you as your taste is impeccable, and you’re one of the few people who enjoy Dylan as much as me. 

            I know you are guarded as to whom you allow into your circle, and I’m honored that you allowed me in.  You’ve introduced me to so many new people and concepts.  I especially treasure the times you made dinner.  I wish I lived closer so we could dine together again. 

All that said, seeing you is a priority.  I want to talk with you again, just hang out, and give you a hug.  You’re one of the most important people I’ve ever had in my life, and I miss you.

As expected, No answer.  I made plans to see her- several times.  Each time life got in the way- usually financially.  

Then, that email.  Friday night.  In the rain.

I could write so much about Mel.  But she was a very private person- life taught her that.  I will say the following.  Mel was a math and financial genius.  She graduated from Boston University and went to work on Wall St. during the 1980s- with ALL that implies.  She worked for some of the most prestigious firms in the world.  She enjoyed weight lifting, music, movies, and cooking. Fine wines and Scotch. Dated beautiful women.  Married.  Two children.  The American Dream.

But...

There was this... problem.  She saw a therapist and said "cure me." There was no cure.  So Mel moved decisively.  Told her wife, divorced her (amicably), went to conferences and learned all she could, met some of the movers and shakers in transgender thought, made friends, and transitioned using the Top doctors in the country at the time.  Spared no expense.  She could easily afford it, even after the divorce.  

At work, She found that no one listened to her any more.  No one took her seriously.  After all, she was just a woman.  Then the firm for which she moved to the Philly area... "went in a different direction."  Her career was over.  Forced early retirement.

A few years later, against her better judgement, she agreed to mentor a scared new parent taking her first steps into her Truth.  Over time, we became friends, for which I'm honored, as she was very choosy about who she "let in."  Through Mel I met people and learned.  I learned through listening, watching, and not listening and paying the price.  

"Enjoy who you are, but never let down your guard."  "Transition should be your last resort- exhaust all other options save death."  "Get FFS (facial feminization surgery) BEFORE you transition and it'll save you a lot of grief." "Whether you think so or not, you will NEVER be prepared for transition, and the changes it will cause in your life.  It can destroy you."  "You don't have to pretend anymore..." 

She was also a huge baseball fan, and rooted for her beloved Yankees.  She told stories of sitting behind Billy Joel at the World Series.  Proof?  He signed her ticket.

Then there was the music.  She loved all kinds of music. Stones.  Who.  And above all, Bob Dylan.  She'd invite me to dinner at her place, and we'd listen to and discuss Bob Dylan records.  "If you're not busy being born, you're busy dying" the man would sing.  "Death to me means nothing as long as I can die fast."

But she didn't  Alzheimers is so cruel.  

Halloween 2010

Time.  I would give years of my life to her if I only could.  But in her case, death was a mercy.  

Mel was there for me when I was thrown out.  She drove me to the appointment to start HRT.  She was there to help me when Lisa died.  The night I sent my "Coming out" announcement we talked and texted extensively.  First day at work as Sophie.  At my "Debutante party." She was always there- without fail.  

But I couldn't be there for her as she faded away.  No one could help her.  But I will be there for her when she is celebrated.  And I will carry her wisdom and love with me the rest of my life.  And I will continue to pass on her wisdom to the "eggs" I mentor.  Like she did with me.  Against her better judgement.

Mel loved quoting authors, so here I quote Keroac from On the Road.  It's fitting.  You see, Mel was one of "the mad ones, the ones who are mad to live, mad to talk, mad to be saved, desirous of everything at the same time, the ones who never yawn or say a commonplace thing, but burn, burn, burn like fabulous yellow roman candles exploding like spiders across the stars..."

Sleep well, my dear friend. My Big Sister.  As Bob sang, I'll  "See that [your] grave is kept clean."

SCC, 2013

For Ty

On Wednesday November 6, 2024, Ty Torres died of head trauma after a surfing accident.  He was 55.  He leaves behind his wife, Robin, and his son, Coltrane.

Photo by Dave Sieling

According to a memorial site:

On the morning of November 5th, 2024, Ty Torres went for an early surf session, something he had done countless times before. However, this time, tragedy struck. Witnesses say that after riding a wave, he appeared to lose control and was knocked unconscious after being thrown off his board. Although lifeguards and bystanders rushed to his aid immediately, performing CPR and attempting to revive him, Ty was ultimately declared dead at the scene. The exact cause of death is believed to be related to a head injury sustained during the fall, although authorities are awaiting a full autopsy report to confirm the details.

His obituary.

The memorial is inaccurate.  He was taken to a hospital where he was declared brain dead, and his wife had him disconnected from life support equipment the next morning.  

Ty was a professor, artist, raconteur, polymath, father, brother, husband, and a great man.  He was also my fraternity brother, one of my closest friends from my undergraduate years, and one of the very few who stayed in touch.

1990

Many people are writing tributes to Ty which talk about his recent accomplishments- about the philosophy classes he taught, his art, his love of life, and his expertise at surfing.  Yes, he was an avid expert surfer.  He even appeared on the cover of a surfing magazine in his youth.  You could say he died doing what he loved.  One of his childhood friends wrote on facialbook "...great soul who understood people and found the salient part of every individual on Earth, never passing up a chance to make anyone feel good."  That really sums up Ty perfectly.

I met Ty in the Fall of 1987.  One of our pledges of that time went to high school with him, and invited him to our parties, eventually talking him into pledging as well in the next semester.  Ty had long, flowing black hair and an easy smile.  I'm not much into guys, but he was really good looking.  I knew he could seduce any person he wished.  

But here's the rub- while he KNEW he was hot, It didn't go to his head.  He was genuine, friendly, and CARED about people.  He actually listened.  He was easy to talk to and easy to like.  When he was "rushing," he and I drank together often.  He was amused that I'd never even tried drugs.  He didn't treat me like an outcast- he treated me like a brother: HIS brother.  He always had my back- and I had his.  There was never a doubt.

With Ty 1991

Ty pledged with the Spring 1988 pledge class.  His pledge class had several really good guys in it, but I think Ty was the engine that kept them going.  They became brothers in late April 1988- the week after the annual Toga party.  (They would've gotten in sooner, but we needed pledges to work Toga.)  

Fare you well, fare you well I love you more than words can tell.  (Grateful Dead)

As a brother, Ty was a phenomenon.  You couldn't ask for a better brother.  He was an incredible ambassador for the letters, and his hotness brought MANY women to our events.  

After I graduated, we stayed in touch.  He was kind enough to let me sleep on his couch a couple of times when I visited PSU before he graduated.  Eventually, he was elected vice president of the fraternity.  He also played "Sahntah" at the annual house Christmas gift exchange- which in our house was a great honor bestowed upon a senior.  When Wife and I visited California, we made it a point to visit Ty, his wife, and their newborn son.  He told me I'd gotten fat.  (He wasn't wrong.)

"Sahntah"

Then I transitioned.  Ty was one of the people I told via video (as I didn't have the money to fly out to California.)  He immediately gave his support.  He never dead-named nor misgendered me.  When my fraternity's 125th anniversary weekend came in 2015, Ty talked me into attending, as I wasn't going to do so.  He said he would walk with me to the House from the hotel to support me.  He also told me of pre-event happies in another brother's room.  At the event (which he helped plan and run) he was a dynamo of energy, and made sure to check in with me occasionally to make sure I was ok.  Seeing him, was really the highlight of the trip.  I told him his beard made him look old.  

The last time I saw him alive was last was at a mini-reunion.. 

With Ty 2015

We kept in touch, usually via text or facialbook.  We had fun destroying the arguments of 45 cultists on Ty's fb feed.  We talked baseball and Penn State football.  The last text I sent that he saw was a meme making fun of his Yankees, who had just lost the World Series.  

Then, the day after the election- a chilly, rainy day here in State College- I received a text from my dear friend (and fraternity little sister) Iva disclosing the horrific news.  I was downtown running an errand for work.  I walked back to work, stunned (I must've looked like a zombie.)  Once back at work, I went into the breakroom and broke down sobbing.  One of the undergrads I work with gave me a hug.  But my life and the world had changed.  

Ty was gone.  

I can't imagine how his family felt.  I can't comprehend the magnitude of their loss.  

His vigil

Soon, tributes popped up online- FB, Insta... all social media.  I knew Ty was popular and amazing, but I didn't realize how many lives he'd touched and changed. I shouldn't have been surprised.  People all around the world: former students, classmates from various schools, co-workers... family.  HIS family.  The family he created one smile at a time.  

Such a long long time to be gone and a short time to be there.  (Grateful Dead)

The following night was a candlelight vigil at Salt Creek beach (Dana Point, CA- south of LA) where he surfed, and a shrine created on the large rock that...  I saw pictures of the vigil.  So many people; so many candles; so many lives.

Ty was one of a kind.  He was a beacon of optimism and, yes, kindness.  This world has been around for billions of years, and may be here a lot longer, but I'm blessed to say that not only did I live at the same time as Ty, but I also had the honor of calling him "brother."  The world desperately needs more people like Ty Arthur Torres, but he was one of a kind.  He was one of the finest men I've ever known.

My deepest condolences to Robin, Coltrane, and his extended family.

May the four winds blow you safely home, Ty.  The world is lesser without you in it.  

For Mike

I sat on my sofa Easter night, watching a movie with my roomie/bestie Linda.  I also zipped through Facialbook, when I saw it.

My dear friend F.M. (Mike) Yates had passed.  

I was stunned.  I am still stunned.  I eventually learned that he'd died a few days earlier- of what I still don't know.  Now I'm writing about a true polymath- a renaissance man whose mutant power was being a friend to all, and I still can't believe he's gone.

Mike

I met Mike in 1989.  He worked at Comics and More in the King of Prussia mall.  I worked at TGI Fridays in the same mall.  On breaks, I'd occasionally go over to the comic store to see what was new.  He'd always engage me, finding out what I liked and making recommendations.  

One day, he told me there was a graphic novel I NEEDED to see.  He brought me a copy of  Sandman: Dolls House.  I never heard of this title.  The only Sandman comics I knew of were the golden age guy with the gasmask and the Kirby one from the 70s (who, I'd learn, makes an appearance in this book.)  I was dubious.  As I worked for tips, I had to be careful with my money (like I don't today?)  He insisted, and showed me a panel of the book.

I said "So?"

He said "that's Death- literally that's Death, saying "supercalifragilisticexpialidocious."

I bought the book, which was my introduction to the works of one of my now favorite authors, Neil Gaiman.  So, it's all Mike's fault that I spent maybe over a thousand on Gaiman's work.  

Of course, there was more to Mike than comics.  He produced videos, acted, made music, and his mashed potatoes were a food group unto themself.  Whenever I saw him, I knew that I'd be laughing to tears from his sharp wit.  Eventually, I started work in the hobby games industry, doing sales.  I made sure that wherever Mike worked was in my retailer list.  He eventually moved over to Showcase Comics in Bryn Mawr, so I did to (as far as comic purchases).  There I discovered a new group of friends for a shining moment, until I moved to Baltimore.  

Being hours away meant I didn't see him as often, but we'd often talk on the phone, especially if I needed a particularly thorny comics, TV, or movie trivia question answered.  I only stumped him once- and I was so proud that I did!  (I think it was a question about Benita Bizzare's henchmen in the Bugaloos: Woofer and Tweeter.)  

Mike was among the first to contact me after I sent my announcement video to dear friends.  He supported me completely- always.  He never misgendered me, nor messed up my name.  He was a true ally.

I am still stunned by the loss.  I don't know why he passed.  He had medical issues, so I guess that may be why.  In any case, the world is that much dimmer and less interesting with him gone.  I still can't find the words.  He was truly one of a kind.  I know he and Hugh are together again playing games and talking science fiction.

Sleep well, Mike.  May the four winds blow you safely home.  

For Jennell

 Jennell Jaquays passed away early on Wednesday, January 10.  She was 67.  She was recovering from Guillain-Barré syndrome.  From the GoFundMe:

“On Sunday evening on October 15th, she fell ill and with[in] 36 hours she was barely alive and hooked up to a respirator. After numerous X-rays, cat scans and blood work finding nothing, they determined she is suffering from a neurological disease. She is responding to the blood treatments and has started regaining motion in her hands and feet, she is looking at a minimum of 2 weeks (more like 4) in the hospital and six to twelve months of rehabilitation.” (https://www.gofundme.com/f/jennell-jaquays-has-a-long-road-back?utm_campaign=p_cp+share-sheet&utm_content=facebook_cta_variant&utm_medium=social&utm_source=facebook)

 

Jennell was a legend in both the Role Playing Game world and in the computer gaming world.  As such, many different website, blogs, and sub stacks have posted wonderful tributes and histories of her. Even the New York Times published a tribute!

 

I won’t repeat all those things.  Yes, they are matters of Fact.  But Jennell was my friend as well as being a legend.  I want to write about that- the Jennell I knew.  One facet of an incredible person.  I know whatever I write won’t capture how I feel or who it is that we’ve all lost.  I’ll try though.

 

Self portrait via New York Times (link above in text)

I first encountered Jennell’s work years before either of us transitioned.  In 1993, I was working as a freelance editor for TSR, the company that created and published Dungeons and Dragons.  My assignment was to edit an adventure module called Swamplight by Jean Rabe.  I did general editing, including checking illustrations, etc.  One piece I was sent was the cover, which was by someone named Paul Jaquays, whom I knew by reputation only.  I knew they’d written some epic adventures for other companies as well as art for TSR. 

 

Decades later, I heard about someone in the gaming industry who’d transitioned.  I was building up toward that myself, so I messaged her on Facialbook, and she was kind enough to reply.  She let me ask her a lot of questions, and eventually we became friends.  We bonded over our common gaming interests and our time working for the gaming industry (which, for me, was in the past.)  We shared tips for painting miniatures and sent each other goofy memes.  I was honored that she asked me to dome editing work for her, including writing a piece for her new Central Casting book, which will be published posthumously.

 

When she fell ill, everyone who knew her was concerned, and were willing to do whatever we could to help.  Her wife, Rebecca (a computer legend herself), set up a GoFundMe to defray the huge medical expenses.  Jennell seemed to be slowly recovering, then… she didn’t.

 

Like so many, I was stunned.  I’m still numb.  I can’t imagine what her wife is enduring now.  As per her wishes, Jennell will be cremated wearing her Viking helmet and outfit.  If nothing else, this tells you all you need to know about her.

 

Jennell was a true polymath- a genius in so many ways.  She was a beautiful soul, and her life touched so many others that she never even met.  I will treasure our friendship, and miss her dearly. 

 

Sleep well, Jennell.  May the four winds blow you safely home.

 

 

For Jenny

Last week was not a good one, for several reasons.  It was my birthday, for one.  However, the day before that, on the night of September 12, I received word that Jennifer Jensen died that morning.

"JJ" April 2010

I don't know if Jenny (JJ) was out to her family, so out of respect for her privacy, I must keep certain personal details vague.

I met JJ at my first Renaissance meeting/ Angela's Laptop Lounge in December 2008.  I was a mess- no makeup, rumpled outfit, bad shoes, and a cheap Halloween wig.  Despite my trollish appearance, Jenny was warm and welcoming, as were most of the people that night.

After the Renaissance meeting, everyone went over to Shangri-La for Angela's Laptop Lounge, the twice monthly transgender inclusive party.  At dinner, I sat next to JJ, and we talked.

I don't remember what we talked about, but she remembered me the next month and we talked some more.  I told her that I'd gotten a room at Motel 6 so I could change into/out of Sophie stuff, and she replied she did the same.  It made sense that we pool our resources, so for over a year, we split the cost of a motel room- usually the Motel 6.  After a month or two, we started having lunch before changing at a restaurant near the motel.  Jen Lehman soon joined us, and three of us became a small group.  For me, it was lunch, go get my makeup done by Amanda Richards, then meet them at the Renaissance meeting.  

Those first months of going out were frightening, but JJ was a calming influence.  She was that way for everyone.  I discovered that this was due to her high stress occupation during which she had to keep a cool head- a career she enjoyed since the 1970s until her recent retirement.  

Keystone 2010

Jenny wasn't "out" to her work colleagues (and again, possibly not to family), so secrecy was a must.  During our lunches we would ponder ways to keep our secrets hidden.  Eventually, I came out to my Wife, then to the world, and Jenny was so supportive.

After she retired, Jenny moved back to her home state, so I rarely saw her except at the Keystone Conference.  There she volunteered her time and expertise to the conference and her presence there will be sorely missed.  JJ helped run the Debutante program for new attendees in addition to originating and continuing to run the popular Friday night Bingo Spectacular.  She and Amanda Richards would wear outlandish costumes and gave away great prizes to winners and those who answered transgender trivia.  

JJ was an incredible person.  She gave of herself without thought of reward or seeking laurels.  She helped because she could, and because she wanted to.  She was an amazing person and an amazing friend.

May the four winds blow you safely home, Jenny.  I will miss you and try to live up to your example.

Penn State Transgender Day of Remembrance 2023 Speaking notes

 

Trigger warnings: death, suicide, truth.

What does TDoR mean to me?

It's intensely personal.  Each year, I carry a picture with me to TDoR ceremonies I attend.  I carry it because someone very dear to me died of violence in September 2013.  Self-inflicted violence.  That wound will never heal.  That scar will never fade. 

Speaking makeup

This year, there are 69 known dead in the US, and 389 dead worldwide.  Those numbers are less than last year, breaking the long-standing trend of annual increases. 

	World	US	Brazil
2022	389	69	107
2021	472	74	153
Difference	-83	-5	-46
Percent	-18%	-7%	-30%
Percent of total	0	18%	28%

(reference if needed)

Someone I’ve known since a month after my re-awakening in 2008, Maddie Hoffman, is one of these names, shot three times by police officers on a wellness check.  Suicide by cop.  

Lee Mokobe: “now oncoming traffic is embracing more transgender children than parents.”

Who can blame her for having a mental health crisis?  The GOP is demonizing and legislating us out of existence everywhere they can.

How long until we see something like Pink triangles as required adornment for transgender people?  How long until my name is among those read by someone I’ll never meet, or laugh with

In any case, the police weren’t charged.  That’s because, in the eyes of the law and many others, we are not human.  An overwhelming percentage of trans murders are never investigated, never mind solved.  Their only crime was living at the Intersection of identity, race, and othering.   The sentence for our existence is Death or exile.  Court is never adjourned.   But there is hope.

This building we occupy stands for the belief that there is something more to our existence- and that those we honor tonight join the chorus invisible of those we honored last year, and the year before.  We say their names, their loved ones remember and grieve them, and we continue the fight.  We continue until there are no more death sentences, until there are no more exiles from home and friends. 

To those whose names we read tonight, all I can say is: I’m sorry: we failed you.  But we will remember, and pray that somewhere, you have found peace. 

Let us honor them, by the name of:

 (read first 10 names

The Spiritual Center

Mum

Helen Kandler died on January 13, 2022 at 8:35 am. (Today as I type this bit.) She was 82, and had suffered with Alzheimer's/ dementia. She was my mother.

Mum was born in Ayr, Scotland in October 1939. She once told me that one her earliest memories was her mother hiding with her under a desk as the Germans bombed the munitions plant nearby. She never liked sirens or loud noises her whole life. Mum was the middle child of three, and she also had a half-brother. Her father was Irish, and her mum was Scottish- Clan Macintosh, of which she was very proud, and passed that pride to me. Of her family, only her older brother survives her.

Mum in Scotland, 1972

She met my father some time in the early 60s while dad was stationed in Germany. They married in January 1964, and were married for almost 58 years. As a gift to dad for their 25th wedding anniversary, mum became a citizen of the US. I helped her study the voluminous amount that she needed to master to pass a citizenship test. (A test I think few in the GQP could pass.) She last saw her native soil in 1972, when she brought my brother and I over to meet our grandparents.  

Mum is survived by my dad, my brother and his wife, me and my Wife, and 2 grandchildren.  

All of those are the facts.  And the fact is I said my goodbye to her a couple of months ago while she was still cognizant.  

Right now, I feel numb.  I should feel more- after all, she was my mother.  She accepted me as Sophie.

When I dressed as a teen, there was only one thing of mums that I would wear- a gold necklace with a heart charm, inside of which is a picture of grandmum and a tiny seed: thistle from Scotland.  I wore it often.  When I stopped dressing in 1983, was the last time I wore it.

The Locket

My father told me to help myself to her jewelry.  Mum wore a lot of costume jewelry, but she had some real stuff as well.  She favored opals, rubies, and diamonds.  I immediately decided that I must only take half of the good stuff, as it wouldn’t be fair to my brother’s wife (or their daughter) for me to take it all.  It’s strange, I felt almost guided to check little containers away from the jewel boxes- tiny boxes and decorative jars (mum had a LOT of them), and that’s where I found her diamond rings- all gifts from my dad.  

While I was looking, dad entered the room, and I asked him if her could identify her engagement ring.  He quickly pointed one out- and I kept it.  Someday, I will give it to my daughter for her wedding (assuming I’m around.)  Then again, all of what I took will someday be hers.  

Mum meeting her daughter for the first time: Feb 2014.

I thought I’d finished, when I felt the urge to check under one of the mahogany jewel boxes (gifts from her father).  There I found two bags, one a pink silk bag and the other blue and velvet like.  In the pink one, I found a string of tiny pearls.  In the blue one was the gold heart locket.  I kept both.  I left half of the valuable items for my brother's wife, as it wouldn't be fair if I took them all.  After all, they have a daughter as well, and she deserves some of her grandmother's legacy.

Believe what you will, but I think mum wanted me to find these items and keep them.  That's not all.  Earlier in the day, my dad and older brother were both outside, leaving me alone in the house.  I decided to speak to her, and told her that I'd try to make her proud.  I then went into a room that used to be where her massage business was conducted, now empty.  The room smelled like her.  She hadn't been in it since at least July, but it smelled like her.  I felt she was there.  A few other times during the day, I felt her presence as well.  Dad's dog also saw her.  He'd look at parts of a room where no one was standing and wag his tail.  She was there- I know it.  

The day ended with a grueling five hour drive back to State College.  During that time, mum was cremated.  I was tired, and my back hurt.

Now her pain is over.  My dad is alone in the house he shared with her.  I'm back in State College while the snow falls outside.  I have homework I should be doing.  The world continues going as it will after I'm gone as well.  I've received many kind messages over the past days from friends and well wishers, and I appreciate them all.  

I'm relieved in a way.  I'd waited for months for the phone call I received Thursday, and now it's done.  Mum was stubborn to the end, and, in the end, she died alone, as no one was in the room.  That was her way when I think about it- she didn't want a big fuss.  

Dad will get her ashes tomorrow.  They will be divided in two boxes: 2/3 and 1/3.  I will take the 1/3 and send it over to my cousin in Scotland.  There, my Uncle will scatter them on the same ground with her parents and sister.  At least part of her will be home.  

For Katie

Katie Ward passed away on Monday, June 14, 2021.  

She suffered from brain cancer which metastasized to her kidneys.  I'd like to think she was surrounded by loved ones, but I don't know.  There are many things I don't know about Katie, but this I do know: she was a dear friend and mentor.

Katie Ward, March 2020

I met Katie in early 2009, soon after rediscovering myself.  We hit it off nicely, but didn't really start speaking until I visited TransCentral PA a few months later.  We bantered back and forth, and learned about each other.  She was vital to the Keystone Conference in Harrisburg every year, so I also saw her there.  Katie didn't BS people- she was blunt, and I liked that about her.  If I looked like shit, she said so.  If she thought I'd had enough to drink, she'd say that as well.

Laptop Lounge March 2009.  My first pic with Katie

Katie's life was all about service.  She served...  well, it's easier to do this.  The following is what TransCentral PA sent out about her passing.  It's how I learned she'd died.

We are sorry to announce the passing of our beloved friend and sister Katie Ward.

She passed on Monday, June 14th in a care facility after finding out less than a month ago she had stage 4 brain cancer which had metastasized to her kidneys. The prognosis was short, but she underwent a few treatments of radiation so she could have a little more time with her daughter and granddaughters. Although tired a lot in her last days, she said she had no pain.

Katie dedicated much of her life in service to others. She served our country honorably, first in the Navy, and then in the Air National Guard which she retired from after 20+ years of military service.

She was an officer of TransCentralPA for over five years and a volunteer/member for twice that amount of time. She would consistently host dinners around Harrisburg before our support group meetings to give people a chance to forge friendships both within and outside the group and build confidence in themselves. She enjoyed helping people and giving back.

She actively participated in many community organizations such as the Keystone Business Alliance whom she helped plan their annual awards banquet for a couple of years.

Her favorite event though was the one she helped grow into one of the largest events in the country--The Keystone Conference, A Celebration of Gender Diversity. Katie took on many roles at Keystone; she was the volunteer coordinator, the off-site event coordinator, the security coordinator, the Registrar and many others for several years. At the Saturday Night Gala of the last Keystone, Katie received a much-deserved standing ovation for her contributions to Keystone and the Central Pennsylvania community.

With her passing, Katie leaves behind a legacy of generosity, kindness and compassion. We will miss you Katie--thank you for being our friend.

So, you see, Katie was all about helping others.  I was one of many t-girls who benefitted from her wisdom and friendship.

It's so hard to write this.  Even though I knew it was coming, I still feel a deep hollow emptiness.  She did so much for so many- it just isn't fair that she should pass while so many useless people survive.  

Katie in a proper uniform

She was buried in a military cemetery under her birth name.  So the name Katie Ward passes into memory, kept only by those who knew her Truth.  I don't know how many of her family knew about Katie.  I think her daughter did.  In any case, we the transgender community have a responsibility to not just keep her memory alive, but to rise to the challenge that her service demands.  She showed us how caring and helping others can be done, and it's up to us to step up and continue her work.

I remember telling her several times that I wanted to be her when I grew up.  She would usually reply with "like you'll ever grow up."

Keystone Conference, 2017

It's rare that one can tell people exactly how you feel about them, and I took that opportunity with Katie.  Once I heard about her diagnosis (and that I couldn't visit due to covid restrictions) I messaged her on Facialbook and told her what she meant to me.  I hope she knew what she meant to so many people in our community, and how great her life impacted so many others.

I know that this piece doesn't begin to give justice to the beautiful soul who has left us, but I think everyone who knew her will understand the depth of grief we all share.  

On her page, I wrote "May the four winds blow you safely home", but I think a more appropriate parting would be "Fair winds and following seas, Katie."  I will miss you, dear friend, and do my best to follow your example.  

Photo by Cassandra Storm