Mother`s Day, Father`s Day

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Mother’s Day, Father’s Day

Mother’s Day and Father`s Day are in different months in countries around the world; in the UK Mother’s Day is in March and Father’s Day is in June.

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Thanks, once again, to my editor and friend Chris, who finds the time in a busy life to review my stories with comments and insights and edits. Busy editing for other authors at the same time, he is also an author in his own right.

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The family are gathering together to see Dad between Mother’s Day and Father’s Day.

Mum knew Dad dressed and at first joined him in the early years of the marriage even encouraged his dressing, but later she came to feel that the female side was more around rather than the male. Eventually she grew disheartened with this until she was no longer able to accept it and they separated.

There were times when their daughter often teased her Dad, though in a loving way as she was more accepting and understanding. Once when he was dressed in his female clothing, the thought occurred to her that maybe she could not only give him a Father`s Day present, but also a Mother’s Day present, as she at times felt she had two Mums.

They laughed and cried when she said, “Maybe I do have two Mums.”

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Remember that day?

We walked along the street and you told me you loved to dress as a woman – it didn’t matter to me, you were still my Dad no matter how you dressed.

Trying to get you to let me see you dressed as my other Mum; that was a mission in itself! You got over the hard part of telling me, although I had already guessed – you were not as good at hiding it as you thought you had been.

When you did show me your other side to me, not just telling me about your dressing but actually letting me see, you were attractive in a strangely masculine way – well, it was difficult not to see my Dad in this woman.

The clothes were sedate, not flamboyant and suited you, the mid length skirt with all those pleats in that mauve wine colour and full sleeved blouse in a matching colour, those heels – wedge shaped, black in colour. I remember you saying the wedge made it easier to walk in them.

You never did show me that matching lingerie set complete with suspenders although I did get a glimpse of the Cuban-heeled stockings that you loved so much. To top it all, that lovely strawberry blonde wig was just right.

When you sent me the parcel and letter I cried at the contents and put them away until they were required.

Eventually I had to fulfil your request; I was happy to do so, though I had to be careful when it was to be carried out as many of the family still do not understand.

When all was done and the viewing was completed I took the parcel round to the funeral home so that you would sleep in your preferred way of dress. You were right, Dad; the lingerie set is adorable.

We are between Mother’s Day and Father’s Day as we gather to say our goodbyes. No-one else needs to know how we have dressed you; we keep this secret between you, me and the funeral home.

Sleep well and rest in peace, for I love you – both as my Dad and as my other Mum; the one you were so reluctant for me to meet at first.

When I finally did, it was a joy to have her around me.

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Comments

Thank you for

' another really beautiful story which you write so well ,lots of empathy and humanity.

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Thank you

GramAlison for reading my story and taken the time to leave a comment and I am glad you enjoyed it.

Love and Hugs

SamanthaAnn

Born a man,

let me die a woman.

Why not?

bev_1.jpg

Why Not

Die as a woman.

Thank you for reading Beverly and posting a comment.

Love and Hugs

SamanthaAnn