It was about a month later (September) that I met Garry at the restaurant. He had been a customer there several times before and I had talked with him while he was sitting at the counter. Maybe I needed to validate my feminimity. I'm not really sure. I only know I was so glad to see him walk through the doors. We had a quiet dinner together there at the restaurant and then went to the movies. That was the beginning of a whirlwind romance.

Halloween was approaching. Garry and I were still dating and although I was not yet divorced, it looked as though the relationship would be permanent. We had carved a pumpkin for the kids and were excited about spending the time together. One afternoon I came home before picking up the kids and found the pumpkin smashed against the living room wall. Someone had broken into my apartment but stole nothing, just broke the pumpkin. The next day I arrived home to find the door wide open and the heater on the fish tank turned off. I was scared out of what little wits I had left. Within minutes of calling him, Garry was there. We grabbed what little we could and I moved into his home.

Moving in with Garry was an experience. He was living in a small two-bedroom house, full to the brim with junk. There was not much room for four more people. The kids slept on a king-sized mattress on the floor in the small bedroom. Needless to say, we looked for a new house.

Having had no children from his first marriage, Garry doted on my three. He especially seemed to love my son and even wired a Tonka fire engine with flashing lights and siren. The kid sure loved it. He wrestled on the floor with all of them and took them everywhere. I thought life was perfect. My divorce was final December 12 and we were married in a quiet evening ceremony December 27, 1978.

Problems didn't really arise until the birth of our daughter in May, 1980. All of a sudden the other three kids didn't exist to him. He dropped them like a sack of hot potatoes. Our daughter became the center of life. He would get up at night with her and hold her for hours. He took her everywhere - to the firestation - to work on boats. If he left the house, she was with him. Of course the others resented it and life became very stressed. All of the talking in the world could not make him see what was happening.

The stresses built. Garry couldn't or wouldn't keep a job. I was making next to nothing and decided to attend nursing school during the day and work evenings. Fighting was almost continuous. The kids were terrors and life was miserable to say the least.

Summer of 1986 was the time of awakening. My son's team was in the city's softball tournament and of course, being a typical mother I wanted pictures. However, I neglected to bring a camera. After dropping him off at the field, I returned to the house. It was too quiet. When we had left, Garry was there and had not indicated that he was going anywhere. With a feeling of unease I started searching. As I went through the house calling his name, more misgivings arose. Where was he? Was he all right? I finally went down into the basement. From behind some boxes he came forth. Like in a nightmare, I saw my husband dressed in a white formal staring at me. (It wasn't until years later that I realized how silly he looked, a stocky dark-haired man with a mustache in a sleeveless formal.) My life came crashing down around me. What had I done to deserve this?

Numb, I ran up the stairs and out the door. I don't remember driving to the ballpark nor do I remember the games. I know that afterwards the three oldest children went to their father's for the weekend. My youngest I sent to the babysitter's. Alone in the house (Garry had gone to work), I went into the bedroom, shut the door and downed a bottle of pills.

Vaguely I remember the hospital intensive care unit and yelling obscenities at my husband. I recall someone asking me if I wanted to be treated as an outpatient or admitted to the local psychiatric hospital. In the hospital I went. For six weeks I hid from the world and opened my soul to my friendly "shrink". It was so strange going home. I felt so fragile when actually I was stronger than I had ever been.

Garry and I did a lot of talking - all of which centered around his crossdressing. I found out that he had been dressing since childhood and that our daughter knew about it. She had been told so that he could dress when I was not around and not to tell me. He assured me that none of the other children knew.

After a lot of discussion I agreed to give the situation a chance and I did. We mutually set limits which he almost immediately broke. He was like the proverbial kid in a candy store. The more he got, the more he wanted. First the mustache went, then he dyed his hair and grew it longer, his nails were done, he started on electrolysis, took hormones, went out en femme (even with his "boobs" which he insisted no one would notice) and wore my clothes without asking. There was no stopping him.

During this time, he joined Alpha-Omega. For some crazy reason, I was still determined to save the marriage. So I started attending also. My first meeting I was met at the door by Gloria (the President and a CD) who took me under her wing. By the end of the evening, I was actually starting to feel somewhat comfortable. For the next couple of years that was my life - trying to slow Garry down - working nights - being a parent - and attending A-O. More and more I came to depend on A-O for my sanity. Other members befriended me and helped me deal with the enormous stresses forming at home.

Fall of 1994 brought the end. I came out of the bathroom one afternoon after taking a bath. Wrapped up in only a bathtowel I was confronted by a TV camera and reporter who wanted to know how I felt about the news. The news??? It seems my husband announced to the world that he as a TS (transsexual) and had legally changed his name to Megan. All of this was indeed news to me. I showed both the camera crew and him the door out. It was time for a divorce.

The time right after Megan (formerly Garry) was moved out was traumatic. It seemed like the news media took delight in adding to the turmoil. Everywhere we went they followed - work, school,friends'homes. Our lives were in the public eye. We even made the newspapers in Florida. I had to change our phone number and make it unlisted. I had to "farm out" our daughter and not go near her for almost six weeks. The time we needed most to be together, we were apart.

At school her life was hell. She was taunted and tormented. Fortunately the school staff was supportive. She arrived at school late and left early so that she had minimal contact with other students. The school counselor was available to her at all times. Whenever she was overwhelmed, she could leave class and talk with him. Over the four years of high school, the taunting decreased but the damage had been done. A vibrant, lovely girl had been turned into an angry, headstrong teenager. The high school activities that all students looked forward to, she missed - no proms, no clubs, no friends. She said that her father was dead and buried in the backyard but actually she was the "dead one" - a child forced into adulthood by circumstances that no one understood.

The media persisted in chasing us for almost six months. We even heard from Montel Williams and of course Jerry Springer. Finally they left us alone, but too late. Family bonds were broken and anger was all around us. My daughter and I no longer knew how to reach each other. We were (and still are) strangers.

I cut myself off from all connections to the CD world. I no longer attended my local Tri-Ess meetings nor did I communicate with any of the members including my friends.I thought that since I was no longer in a relationship with a CD I could no longer be a member. Ironically, it was like a purge. Months flew by and I was miserable. I didn't have anyone to talk to who could really understand what I was going through. How could they? They hadn't been married to a CD turned TS. Their lives hadn't been broadcast throughout the city. I was alone in this.

Finally one day I'd had enough. I had been emotionally crippled. My life was in shreds and I knew I had to find some answers. I reached out to the only person I felt close enough to - Gloria. She was the first person I had met at Alpha Omega. She had taken me under her wing at my first meeting. She had helped me before, would she now? I should never have doubted. One of the first things she mentioned was my attending the meetings. It was like a ray of hope. Could I really? Maybe there I could find some peace. She and I talked for hours but she couldn't convince me. Tri-Ess was for "heterosexual crossdressers AND their significant others". I felt that I didn't qualify anymore. I had no crossdresser in my life anymore; therefore, I wasn't an SO either. How could I attend? By this time, I really wanted to. In fact, I was beyond wanting to, I needed to. I had to regain some sense of my own self-worth and I had the feeling that in A-O it could be done.

Finally the decision was made and I attended my first meeting alone. I was just as nervous opening that door as any new member. Would anything be said about my not belonging? Would I be shunned? Or would I, too, be accepted? As I look back and remember, a smile is crossing my face. The old members that had been there before greeted me with hugs and expressions of love and concern. They allowed me to talk and cry freely. Not a one said for me to leave but each made me welcome. I've never left.

The next four years were very lonely in many ways. I had no special person to share them with and frankly that was all right with me. The idea of becoming involved with someone else scared me. I would rather be alone. I managed to keep busy.

April 1997, I started using my son's computer and became a chat-aholic. It was like a fantasy world. I spent hours a day in the various chatrooms. That served as a social substitute. I was safe for a while.

April 1998, my father suffering from multiple myeloma came to live with us. Taking care of dad severely curtailed my chatting but by then I was beginning to be bored anyway.

I had purchased a new computer the previous December and was having problems (going from a Macintosh to a Compaq is not exactly easy) with some of the programs. Lisa, a member of A-O, came to my rescue.It became a matter of routine for her to come over on Sundays, watch an old movie with us, have dinner, and troubleshoot the computer. It made no difference to either dad nor myself whether Lisa came en femme or en homme. S/he was always welcome. I began to really look forward to her visits. Life was exciting again.

Between work and taking care of Dad, there wasn't time for outside activities.  I didn't feel comfortable leaving him since I was already gone all night working and slept much of the day. Lisa's visits became important.  It was like bringing the outside world in.  Besides, she fascinated me.

At the chapter meetings Lisa reminded me of a little lost sparrow  She dressed kind of dowdy - dresses below her knees, light makeup, simple shoes, a brown-red wig with no style.  Nothing flashy, just clothes like Grandma would wear. She hung behind others and was very quiet.  In her quietness, she captivated me.  I wanted to tell her "everything was OK" and that she was safe.  When she started visiting us, she was quiet and just seemed to fit in.  I found myself wondering what to wear, what to cook, and watching the road for his/her car.  I figured that I had found a fried who didn't care that my house wasn't the cleanest or that dinner wasn't the fanciest.  I had found a friend with whom I was comfortable.

In August my dad developed some problems.  His pain was no longer controlled by medication, and he couldn't keep food down.  We decided to go to the hospital.  I didn't know that he would not be coming home ever again.  Eleven days after his 72nd birthday he was gone.  I was devastated.  I was barely functioning, but I managed to make the funeral arrangements. The night before his funeral I was no longer able to cope.

After I washed the same dish at least three times, my daughter took me aside and said that I needed a break.  Whenever I'm extremely stressed out, I go to Niagara Falls and stand at the crest for hours.  I take all the problems that I can't solve and mentally throw them over the falls.  In effect, I'm turning them over to my Higher Power.  But this time I couldn't do that.  It was late, there was no time, and I had to go to the funeral in the morning.  My daughter persisted and convinced me to go.

I needed to do a favor for Matt on the way, she said.  He needed a compact disc he had left at the house.  Would I drop it off on the way?  I didn't want to, but I did.  I arrived at his place to find him waiting for me.  He moved me out of the driver's seat and drove me to the falls.  Neither of us was thinking clearly - he had on just a light jacket.  But he never said a word while standing in the cold mist of the falls.  I cried more tears than I thought I had in me, with him standing quietly beside me.

Finally I was cried out and needed to rest.  We looked for a hotel and finally found one that had a vacancy. A vacancy!  They only had one room with a double bed.  I figured we were adults - just friends - and could behave that way.  After all, we had never been on a date, never kissed other than as friends do, and never said a word about any kind of relationship.  We lay on the bed with our heads toward the TV and our feet at the head and flipped through the channels.  Something on the Disney Channel caught Matt's eye.  It was one of my favorite programs that I had loved as a kid -Zorro! He, being twelve years younger, had never seen it.  So we watched it, and it was followed by Spin and Marty - another program he had never seen.  I leaned over him to explain who Annette was when he said, "I love you."  I looked into his blue eyes and realized that something magical had happened over the months during which we had known each other.

This kind, gentle man had managed to talk to my heart and make it blossom, all without my realizing it.  Looking at his face, I felt warmth and comfort.  His hands in mine took the loneliness out of my life.  I had found love without looking for it, and knew that I gave it in return.  I had a feeling of excitement steal over me.  I was in love and it was great!  The world was right again!

I've tried to understand why I don't mind Lisa when I had such a difficult time accepting Megan.  I came to the conclusion that it was a matter of choice, trust, and caring.  I chose to allow Lisa into my life.  I knew about her from the start.  She wasn't suddenly sprung on me, and we care for each other.  If Matt needs to be Lisa, it's ok.  If I need for Lisa to stay away, I know that all I have to do is be honest and tell him.  My feelings are important too.  Choice, trust, and caring make all the difference in the world.

On July 29, 200, Lisa and I were married.  She wore the bridal gown and I wore the tuxedo.  On August 26, 2000 Matt and I had our second (and legal) ceremony.  This time I wore the gown and he wore the tuxedo.  On October 1, 2006 we were handfasted according to my beliefs.  Then I wore my priestess' robe and cords while he wore a hand-made poet's shirt and long hair loose.  Three separate, distinct ceremonies to show that we accepted all "sides" of each other. 

Daily I thank Dad for his final gift to me - my darling husband! I felt that it was Dad who brought us together.  He was the catalyst.  Matt came over to help Dad and it was during those times that we grew to know each other.  Dad didn't die until Matt was ready to be here for me.  It was like a change of command.  I wasn't left alone.  In a way, my dad lives on in the relationship that Matt and I have.