This is the last in a series of stories about my Mormon mission experiences in France and Belgium during the early 1970s. Though based on real circumstances and experiences, it is still fiction and is really just what I wanted to have happened.
Gary
Part XXI - Epilogue
David and I tried to keep up a friendship. He married Valerie but I didn't attend the ceremony. They had three or four kids. I lost count. I saw them once or twice over the years. But then I lost track of him about 1985. I was living in Montana at the time, working at the University of Montana in Missoula. I was a purchasing agent for the University. I moved to Montana to enjoy the outdoors where I could find places to be alone. I never found another man to love like Dave. I had a couple of long term relationships but nothing permanent.
In 1995, I moved back to Utah to work for the University of Utah. In 1998, I received an email from an address I didn't know. I almost ignored it but was curious. The email simply read, "I feel pretty, I feel pretty... Marriott Hotel. Room 609. 6pm". For a while, I couldn't fathom what that meant. Then it hit me. David.
At 6:00pm, I was at the Marriott in the lobby wondering if I should go up. It had been 27 years since I said good bye to him in Santa Fe and at least 15 years since I last heard from him. I was scared, angry and nervous all at once. What would he look like? What would we say to each other?
I knocked on his door. It opened and there was the red hair I loved so much, albeit with a few flakes of gray. He sported a mustache. He eyes where still the blue of the Meuse River.
"Gary! I'm so glad you came. Come in!" He extended his hand and brought me into the room. He was alone.
"What brings you to Salt Lake, David?" I asked.
"I was here on business for the State of New Mexico, Dept of Finance. I had heard you were back in Salt Lake and I called the University and your secretary gave me your email address and you know the rest."
The two of us were a little stiff. None of the comraderie we shared in Belgium came forth, a casualty of age and experience. We played the game of acquaintances who only see each other for reunions or family parties. Your move, now mine, smile, two three four.
"Great. It's good to see you again. How long has it been? Fifteen years or more, I guess," I mused somewhat annoyed that he would think he could just barge back into my life.
"You look great. It doesn't look like you've aged at all."
"I could say the same about you. How's Valerie and the kids? How many do you have now?"
"We have seven kids and they're great. As for Valerie, well, she's not doing so well."
"Oh, I'm sorry to hear that. I hope it's nothing serious."
"Actually, it is."
There was a knock at the door. Dave opened it and room service came in with dinner for two. "I hope you like halibut," he asked as he was signing the service slip.
"Love it. Thanks."
The two of us awkwardly sat down for dinner around the table in the room. "The last time we sat around a table like this was 27 years ago," he said while getting ready to eat.
"Right. Seems like yesterday," I commented trying to point out the obvious. The two of us just caught up on job and family and stuff. It was a dinner that I could have done without; a conversation that tarnished the memory of our past together.
After dinner, and at the end of a long string of polite conversations, I said bluntly, "Dave, what's the real reason you asked me here tonight? You've come to Salt Lake several times it seems and never made the effort to see me before. What's so special about now?"
"Just like Elder Roark," he said. "You always come to the point. Well, you're right, there is a point." He got up and paced the room a little. The tone of his conversation changed dramatically. He became very nervous and not so self-assured. He spoke in quiet tones, his eyes remaining fixed to an unknown spot on the floor. "I, um, I've left Valerie. She's suing for divorce as we speak. We've actually been separated for about three months. The two youngest kids live at home with her."
He stood there staring for a several seconds before looking up and trying to gauge my reaction. I looked at him somewhat dumbfounded at his revelation. Hesitantly, I asked, "What brought all this on? You've been married for nearly 30 years."
"Married, yes, but never in love." David sat down on the bed. "You see, I married her for convenience and for duty. I thought I was indispensable at home and I knew my mother loved Valerie and I wanted to do anything I could for my mother after the death of Dad and my brothers." He stood back up and walked to the window and looked out. "Remember the last night we made love? Remember what I said to you in that motel room in Santa fe?"
How could I forget it? "Of course I do. It's something I think about often."
He turned towards me, his voice firmer. "Well, you laid it all out very clearly. You made me make a choice. It was either you and all we shared in Belgium and the dreams we had or Valerie and my mother and the sense of duty I felt towards them as though I was THEIR only choice, their only hope of a good life. I was too afraid to make the choice I wanted." David's voice began to choke up as old emotions began to come forth. "I made the choice I thought other people wanted me to make, the choice I thought God wanted me to make. I was afraid of your path. You said you were gay. I didn't want to be gay even though I knew I was. I wanted the Mormon life, the life where I've got kids and a house and a dog and a Church calling and...." His voice trailed off. We shared a moment of exquisite silence. "Anyway, I've spent the last 27 years serving the needs of my family, building that life all the while suppressing my thoughts and desires."
I motioned to him to join me on the bed where I was. We sat down on the edge next to each other.
He continued with a melancholy in his voice that echoed inside my soul. "I've been a great father and a pretty good husband. I love being a family man. But when Mom died five years ago, a lot of my reason for staying with Valerie died with her. I went a little crazy and Val decided I needed to see a psychiatrist. I waited awhile but feelings were coming at me from all sides and I didn't understand what was wrong. Finally, I was confused enough to go and talk. Dr. Flood made me see that the decision I made in the motel room that night was out of guilt for my mother's situation. I was playing out the role I thought I should play as the sole surviving son. I felt guilty to still be alive. I would have done anything to pay back my mother for not being there on that day. Anything including leaving the one person in my entire life that I loved more than life itself, you."
'Oh God, not now, not after all these years,' I thought to myself.
"Therapy helped me to realize that I only 'served' the women in my life. I didn't love them in a passionate way. The therapist helped me to realize that I'm happiest when I'm around men and receiving love from them. I haven't felt loved by a man since I left you that night in Santa Fe. Because of that, I'm neurotic and could ruin the lives of all I love, especially my children, by developing behaviors that are self-defeating and harmful. After several months, I sat down with Valerie and told her what the therapist told me. I told her, after years of denial, that I was gay and that I finally learned the truth about myself."
"David. I, uh, I don't know what to say." I took his hand in mine and tried to find some expression that was appropriate for the moment but I couldn't. Here was the great love of my life finally resolving the conflict that kept us apart 27 years ago and I was empty, even numb.
David continued. "Valerie wasn't able to accept my feelings or explanations. Life turned ugly for us. She accused me of having sex with men which wasn't true, at least not anyone besides you. She said she couldn't trust me with the children. Our life slowly fell into total chaos. So, to protect the children, I moved out and now we're formalizing it by divorcing. Valerie will barely speak to me. She won't let me see my two youngest kids. The older ones are more accepting but they are protective of their mother for which I'm grateful."
"Now what are you going to do?"
"I don't know. I'm sort of at my last straw. Everyone I've ever loved is gone. Everyone except you." Finally, he looked at me with tearfilled eyes, brimming with sorrow and lonliness. "So, I came to you, hoping somehow, something of what we had still existed and we could build on it and maybe take up where we left off at the train station in Liege so long ago." His eyes overflowed and he fell back on the bed overcome with the pain he felt.
I couldn't believe what I was hearing. I had built up so many walls around my heart and feelings because I never wanted to be hurt again like I was hurt by David. And now here he was asking for me to tear down those walls and allow him back into my heart once again. I stood up and walked to the window and looked over First South below.
"Gary, I'm sorry. I know this is sudden. I realize I don't deserve your love. But..."
"No, David, it's okay. You have every right to ask. We had at one time the most beautiful relationship two people could have. We were true companions, remember? The world was our oyster and we were going to live on our terms. That dream kept me alive for a long time. But I took that dream and locked it up deep inside after you left me in Santa Fe. I've never allowed anyone else to make me feel the way you made me feel. I never allowed the love in my heart to be expressed. It was all for you and you rejected it. I'm not sure I can find the key to unlock that love now after these many years. I mean, we're middle aged now. Life has given us lumps that we never anticipated. And you want to turn the clock back to Seraing and our little apartment. I don't know that I can." I was searching for the key to my heart, for a way to tear down those walls.
"Well, we don't have to do it all at once. I didn't expect us to immediately have what we had before. I was hoping we could maybe work on it and see if anything remained."
I turned around and looked at David in the eyes. Those blue pools I used to take such joy in. He no longer had the excitement of youth. His eyes were wizened by his years of learning who he really was. I thought back on that first morning when he had his garments down and was washing himself. I tried to find the feelings I had then. I thought back on the night in the hostel when we were talking in the shower and Elder Peters came and David left and I followed him and found him crying in his bed. I thought back to our night in Antwerp when we gave each other our all. Tears came again to my eyes as I thought about that night when he heard about his father's death, a night that brought great healing into my own life. Somehow, I found a way to tap the feelings I felt then, feelings of compassion and a deep, spiritual love for a man that needed me.
Slowly, my heart began to open. I walked over to David who was still sitting on the edge of the bed. I lifted him up and looked him in the eye. We looked into each other's soul. Inside his eye, I found the key I wanted to open my heart. I saw the two of us together in Seraing, our young faces full of dreams for the future, our enthusiasm for life boundless, our love for each other unspoken but communicated with every touch and expression. As I looked into David's blue eyes, I saw into the eternities we were together, once again as one like we were in Seraing.
Tears overflowed my eyes and love fill my heart once again. Our faces turned slightly and came close together so that our lips could barely brush by each other. We looked again then came together again with gently but sure kisses, out tongues darting in and out. We looked at each yet other again and then passionately kissed in the way only two true companions can kiss. Wave upon wave of my love for David came out from my heart and I felt again like I did. The two of us were weeping at this point, our tears mixing together.
"Gary, I'm so sorry we lost all these years of our dream. Can you forgive me?" David said while trying to control his sobs.
"David, I don't know how to handle these feelings anymore. But they're flowing out from inside my walls in ways I haven't felt in decades. I know this is going to work but I'm not sure how. I do know that even after all these years, you and I are meant to be together. I have no doubt but that we have been together even before this life. And I know we'll be together for the eternities as well. Nothing need keep us apart now."
David took something from his pocket. It was a small box. He gave it to me. I opened it up and found the CTR ring he gave me in Seraing before he left. "I've kept this all these years. I think I must have known that one day I would give it back to you. Gary, I don't know the words to say but I want you to be my True Companion for the rest of our lives and into the eternities. Will you, please?"
I was a mess by now. I was crying and when David put the ring on my right little finger, I crumpled down onto the bed. He joined me as he asked me to be his partner forever. I looked him in the eye and whispered, "I love you. I want to be with you forever. Yes. I'm yours and you are mine."
We fell back on the bed and kissed and held each other in our arms letting the years of loneliness be washed away by our tears. We would need to learn to know each other all over again but now there was nothing stopping us. Our lives were our own and we chose to share them with each other.
Two years later, the two of us were in Amsterdam. We had made arrangements to get married under the new Dutch law allowing same sex couples to be legally married in the Netherlands. Though it would have no force in Utah, it was still symbolic of the love we had developed over the last two years of living together. Along with us were all seven of David's children who had gotten used to calling me Uncle Gary. Valerie, of course, didn't come but she was pleased that David was finally happy and did not object to us showing the kids where we were missionaries together in Seraing. The old apartment was still there but was now a storage area and we couldn't get in. We showed the kids Liege and the chapel there and took them to Brussels and the LDS Church there. Neither David nor I were members of the Church anymore. But the kids took part and two of them had served missions.
On the day when our marriage was to take place, I got a further surprise. Someone knocked on our door in the hotel. I went to open it and there was Paul or rather Andreas Krassoudakis. He had to tell me who it was after all these years. He was bald and had filled out a little. But he had been able to return to Greece and take up his life again. I asked him how he tracked us down. He said David did it as a surprise for me. David paid for his way to Amsterdam to join us for the wedding.
We had a simple wedding in the Westkirche near where Ann Frank lived. Just the family and Paul. There, in that simple setting, David and I were married in the sight of God and the Dutch government. We gave ourselves to each other. We became True Companions.