| I was downstairs watching a video when my oldest sister, my friend and his family arrived. They drove part of the journey together, hooking up on the way to Montr�al. I was glad that my dear friend had decided to come up for my surgery. We had been through alot of interesting times throughout the previous six or so years we had known each other. I think his daughter was fourteen at the time of my surgery. She was really cool and had accepted her father's crossdressing since she was about eight. I remember my friend telling me a story about one of his daughter's friends seeing a crossdresser at the local mall. Her friend was thoroughly intrigued by this man dressing as a woman. His daughter told him afterward that she was thinking: "What's the big deal? I have a crossdresser that lives in my basement!". Well, my friend didn't live in the basement of their house. His feminine ego and all of his feminine belongings were banished to what was the sewing room in their basement by his wife after one of her tirades faulting his crossdressing for her unhappiness. That was one of many reasons I was not excited about having his wife there. She was a genuinely nice person and for the most part treated me with respect. She was not very happy when her husband confessed to being trans nine years into their marriage. She was also a diabetic and an alcoholic. That combination proved to be a volitile mix on many occasions. Some of those incidences I witnessed first hand. I had a feeling that bringing her to Montr�al would most assuredly rekindle her deepest fear: that one day her husband, too, would want to have the surgery. It was certainly nice to see some familiar faces. They were glad to be there after a long trip. I believe it was Margaret who gave them a tour of the residence. We intermingled with a few of the residents for a short time before heading out to find the places where they were staying. I had already told Margaret not to expect me for dinner. There was a vegetarian restaurant in the area that we were planning on going to for dinner later on after my other two sisters arrived. We found the Hilton (where my friend was staying) with little trouble and then made our way to the B & B (where my sisters were staying). It was a cozy little house, and the couple who owned it seemed pleasant. We moved my sister's belongings into a cozy room upstairs and waited for our other two sisters to arrive. After some miscommunication and confusion they finally made it to the B & B. I was excited to have all my sisters there as we settled my two other sisters in a quaint room downstairs. Even though I was elated to have all my sisters there with me I was beginning to feel a little removed from them. I sort of felt like I was walking down this road by myself, albeit I felt protected and comfortable. The three of my sisters were staying together by themselves for perhaps the first time. It seemed like I was viewing the whole situation from a distance. They might have been there for me, but in actuality they were there for each other. I'm sure the bond they eventually deepened amongst themselves while they were there was somewhat unexpected. I would watch the rest of the weekend unfold with sublime innocence. Hunger was getting the best of us so we headed out for dinner. We stopped to pick-up my friend at the Hilton. When we got there he informed us his wife was having a tantrum because she forgot to bring her diabetic supplies. Her frustration was mounting and she decided to stay behind while the rest of us sped off to find the restaurant. The rain had stopped and the weather was turning sharply cooler. Once we had dinner and got back to the residence things would definitely heat up. BACK NEXT |