In the case of a parent losing their child to the transsexual experience, there is no closure. The loss is a death and it stays open with a constant reminder.  Bereavement never really ends because the one you love is gone, but not, their body and memories of your live on in the form and personality of a virtual stranger.

When a person chooses to follow the transgendered path they put themselves and their families through both physical and mental changes.  A man dressing as a woman changes his appearance to his perception of how a woman looks.  He acts as he perceives women act.  If he is committed to making a full change he pumps his body full of chemicals that are foreign to his genetic makeup.  Pumping steroids causes personality changes. How much of a personality change will be brought about by pumping the body full of testerone blockers, then female hormones?  There is simply no way that a man can change his appearance and stuff his body with chemicals that are foreign to his genetic programming and not experience a profound personality change.  The same is true for F-M transgender change.

This is the story of my life with my transsexual. 

In 1990 my husband and I were married in a double wedding with my oldest son.  six weeks later his pregnant wife left him and went into hiding.  Two years later he saw his daughter for the first and last time at his divorce hearing.

For the next 8 years my son lived alone in another state and we had sporadic contact with him.

My son called me on Valentines day 1998 to tell me that he is gay and a transvestite.  I supported him through two years of drag queen events and activities, going to events and making gowns for him to wear at the events. 

Christmas 1999 brought about change.  He had a nose job and came to Christmas with two black eyes and an announcement that he was going to start living as a woman full time on January 1, 2000.  He assured us that his therapist agreed with his decision.  Little did I know that he saw the therapist less than 6 times and did not receive any actual therapy, just approval.

His therapist began prescribing testerone blockers and female hormones for him and the changes began.  He began electrolysis to remove facial hair.  They got some of it, but not all and left small pock marks on his face.  To this day the roughness of her skin and the facial hair she grows gives her away.

During the year of living as a woman he contracted a near fatal illness. 

I became his sole financial support for over a year.  In that time he decided that if he was going to die he wanted to die in his correct gender identity.  We began the process of putting together the money to pay for his surgery.

During this time my son never asked me how I felt about his decision, in fact I have never been asked how I responded to his choice. 

I did all of the right things.  I pretended that I understood and accepted, both to him and publicly. The truth is that I was devastated, deeply depressed, and did not care if I lived another day. To use the words of the chief in the movie "Little Big Man" I woke up each day telling God, "today is a good day to die".

For me my beloved son is dead, but not, replaced by a virtual stranger who I do not know.  No closure is possible, his body lives on in the form of a pseudo woman.  That relationship has not changed over the intervening years.  I went from having a son I could talk to about almost anything, to a daughter who has a very short list of topics we can discuss, all of them shallow and meaningless.

In the fall of 2001 I traveled with my son out of the US to support him through his reassignment surgery. This is not an action I recommend to most parents.  I was alone in a third world country with no support.  I had to deal with my loss and pain alone. 

When we returned to America she went home and dropped out of my life.  I had no idea what or how she was doing and felt totally abandoned. 

My younger son moved across the country and to this day refuses to have anything to do with me because I supported his brother to become a woman. (At least that is what I have been told.)

My depression got deeper. The one thing she asked of me when we parted was not to "out" her. I am sure she had no idea that she was asking me to lie and pretend. Since I am not a good liar her request resulted in my isolation. I could no longer make friends with people my age group because they all talk about their children and I could not pretend that my son's childhood experiences were a daughter's experiences. My son was all boy and never exhibited female preferences. He played trucks, excavation, cowboys & Indians, made box forts, camped, fished, and generally acted like a boy. 

My isolation became more severe when we moved back to the city where my daughter lived. I lived there when she was young and had lots of friends.  I could not contact any og my previous friends because she did not want to be outed and they would ask after my son. For two years I lived in my basement and ran a business. The only people I communicated with were my husband, daughter, and work associates.

Because I could not find any support programs for families of transsexuals my only support force was my husband. I was so wrapped up in my pain, anger, and depression that I did not notice what he was going through. In his efforts to help and support me he took some actions that are now affecting our lives in a negative way. 

Today my husband is on antidepressant medication and I am taking herbal antidepressants.  We live in another state and are beginning to heal. I have stopped living in isolation, stopped pretending or lying about my TS, and I refuse to pretend that she is anything other than a transsexual when asked about my children.

I have chosen to go back to church and I started forgiving my son and daughter, my son for changing, my daughter for killing my son.

My life is much better. I look forward to each day. My husband has begun to heal and as a result our marriage is healing. My TS is living in another state and has finally established an ongoing relationship with her teenage daughter.

In many ways I feel that I failed my son. I bought into the transsexual belief system too quickly. I did not question or challenge the decision, and did not insist on and pay for weekly therapy for my son. Maybe if I had taken a proactive position I would still have my son, my granddaughter would have her dad, and my son would be living his life fully as the wonderful man he had become.

If I had taken a stand maybe nothing would have been different, except I would know that I did everything I could to help him instead of just rolling over to the transgendered community and belief system.