My Nana, Ada, died a few weeks ago. Honestly, I never liked her, and have not lamented her passing in any way since. In my youth she was often horrid, bigoted, and on numerous occasions attempted to seize control of my parenting.
Her funeral was yesterday, and many relatives spoke of her determination, spirit, independence, and faith in God. As an Atheist, I paid little attention to the religious aspects of the memorial. However, I was flabbergasted and speechless to see how loved she was, the crone had massive support from all the attendees!
My beloved sister cried over Ada’s death at the burial, then wasn’t listed as one of her grandchildren. My mother was visibly affected during the service despite the treatment she had endured from her mother-in-law.
As a blood-related grandchild of Ada, I sat in front row. Never had I felt more out of place, surrounded my mourners while I myself remained stoic and unchanged.
Towards the end of the evening, I nervously introduced myself to the sister of my Aunt’s late husband. Though we bear no blood relation, I now affectionately refer to her as ‘Auntie Tina’ in my head.
“Hello,” I said, “Tina, is it?”
She gaped slightly, and stuttered, “Y-yes! You’re the first person to get my name right tonight, how did you know who I was?”
“Ah, yes, you’ve seen Michael then? Nigel didn’t even recognise him! We never know if he’s Michael or Tina or whatever,” Claire sighed as she spoke to my mother, “Nobody sees him much.“
“I just heard from others your name,” I said to Tina, only half-lying. I extended my hand and introduced myself, “I’m Lukas, but you probably heard others refer to me as-”
She shook my hand, “So, wait – You’re trans too? FTM I’m assuming?”
I smiled brightly and let her lead me over to a corner to speak in privacy.
“I’m so glad you exist,” She said, “someone like me in the family.”
I felt the same.