I always think about how remarkable my grandmother was. She never, in any way, questioned why a little boy like me wanted to sew a dress for a doll. When I told my mother I was gay, one of her concerns was that she did not want her mother and daddy to know. They were old and she felt they would not understand. I found out years later from a cousin that my grandmama and granddaddy had suspected I was gay since I was two years old. And they loved me all the more for it. Having had seven children, they were blessed with lots of grandchildren. But I think I was their favorite.
