Nothing

Because a title would only take away from it

6:50 Steven passed
6:55 His partner called and told me

I finished cooking for my family, kissed them and left

8:00 at the hospital

peeling sisters off a broken looking yellow version of v

Cried because he died before he wrinkled

Called the mortuary

Called my mother

Called my husband

Rocked his sisters and begged them to stop touching him, his skin is peeling off

Thanked his mother for sharing him with us

Laughed uproariously with the family and friends

Nudged the dancing queens and begged them to act straight just for a few minutes, they raised their waxed eyebrows and said they were

Made hotel reservations

Said amen to a Buddhist prayer recited in Korean

Said Amen to a Catholic prayer recited in Latin

Was doused in holy water from New Mexico

Silently said the Shema and thanked G-d for taking him

Begged the nurses to help the mother out because her knees were buckling

Drove mom, sister, niece and brother in law past Mickeys, Rage and various cruisers to deposit them at a hotel.

They wondered aloud where everyone was walking to.

I can't wait for them to enjoy the buffet breakfast with the tranny hookers...

My friend of 20 years, my love, my family of choice, he's finally gone.

I can only share with my husband the immense relief it is. I didn't want him to die but he just wasn't living.

His mother chants, "Not my Steven. Not my Steven. Not my Steven. Not my Steven. Not my Steven."

His sisters realize that she did, in fact, love him best.

This is a long day with the laughter dousing the tears. I can't sleep or eat but I can't stay awake or speak coherently.

Eve smiled a little when she heard he died. I think she's tired of sharing me.

I'm tired too Eve but I'm teaching you to be unafraid in the face of death. I'm showing you that no one is invincible and we are all uniquely bound to one another. Eve, my precious, I'm showing you how to be a woman. How to walk tall and proud, how to use your intellect and your resources to thank those around you.

And I will take you proudly to the memorial tomorrow and show you what it is to be a lady because Steven and his partner loved you and you loved them. You will be a gift to Steven's mother who needs to see that a typical family loved and was loved by her son. Not because we're better than the lipstick lesbians who did hair and nails with him, not because our family has more value than the two Daddies who will show up but because Steven's mother deserves to have one little something that's inside her comfort zone.

Because once you join the tribe of mothers you become everyone's mother and when a mother loses her son you honor her. You do what you can to make a woman comfortable who has seen her child in and out of the world. You cater to racism and bigotry because next year or next week when the time is right you will have been dignified and when you say how hurtful it was they might be ready to hear it. Or maybe not, but it's okay because it's fear not malice. And it's okay because their grief is so palpable they really need an enemy and you know it's not real.

It's the wrong order of things. Mothers shouldn't bury children.

It's the same hospital where Adam and Eve were born.

It's the same hospital where I sat with a febrile infant Adam for 5 days praying that I'd bring my baby home when the doctors weren't quite sure.

It's the same hospital where my Uncle Died and my Aunt Collapsed.

His partner swears up and down that he's negative... but then again Steven swore the same thing.

Without Steven I feel old. Like I'm supposed to be the adult, because he took care of me.

When I stop typing I'll know he's really gone.

I'll have to fight the urge to delete this whole fucking blog.