Joan's Thoughts

I had hoped after that young man had moved out of that awful loft that Brian would have reason to rethink what he was doing, how he had chosen to live his life. I know he hasn’t though.

 

I was talking with Claire just yesterday when she told me the young man—Justin she called him, I had forgotten his name—was back. She had stopped by to speak with Brian about something or other and he was working on a computer when she arrived.

 

Since she had the boys with her she didn’t want to get into any kind of a scene with the youngster, but she said it just broke her heart to know that he and Brian did those—things together. He told her that Brian would probably be home any time so she waited for him, talking with—Justin until he arrived.

 

He told her that he was an art major, that he needed to use the computer because of an injury and that Brian had bought the thing for him.

 

Poor Claire. She has been trying to get that miserable man she married to buy her boys a decent machine for their school work and here her own brother goes out and gets an expensive machine for his little plaything.

 

She did say that his work, what she saw of it, seemed to be quite good and that he was polite and well spoken, but that’s really no surprise. Brian would never allow someone who didn’t meet his inflated standards anywhere near him if he could avoid it.

 

She even went on to say that he seemed to be bright and that he even had a way with the boys, handling them just fine and without any problems. When Brian spends any time with them he simply no patience and becomes nasty and sarcastic and unpleasant. It’s just the way he always was and likely always will be.

 

I swear I wonder why Brian turned out the way he did. I did try with him and he was such a sweet, intelligent little thing, and so good looking, too. Then when he turned about twelve he was just impossible and only got worse as time went on.

 

I couldn’t do a thing with him after that. He just went his own way.

 

I swear, it was a relief when he finally left for college. I thanked God that He saw fit to allow Brian to receive a scholarship or I’m not certain what would have happened. It was clear that we could no longer live under the same roof.

 

That reminds me of something else. I bent Clair’s ear for quite a while asking her why neither she nor her father ever saw fit to tell me that Brian, my own son! is one of those—that he’s gay.  Do you know what she told me? They thought that I’d be upset.

 

Upset? That doesn’t begin to cover it. Dear God in Heaven. Knowing that my son, my only son is going to Hell is not something I would take lightly and they both knew that…they all knew that.

 

Brian.

 

I’ve never understood why he turned out the way he did, cold and remote and closed off. I swear he’d forget that he has a family if he could.

 

I did my best, but he made it so difficult.

 

And now he’s back with that child.

 

He told me that the boy is of age, that it’s legal and that they’re both consenting adults. As if I care about the legalities. I care about his soul, about both of their souls.

 

I’ve asked Brian to come back to church with me, but he just sneers like he always does. I gather the boy isn’t catholic, but I pray for him anyway and I’ve asked Claire to also.

 

Brian actually told me, the last time I saw him, that he thinks this time the two of them will probably stay together for a long time. He even said that he’d thought about going somewhere with that poor youngster and actually getting legally married.

 

Oh, I know he just said that to shock me, to upset me, but I wouldn’t put it past him.

 

Well, it may be legal if they actually go through with it, but it will never be sanctioned in the eyes of the Lord and I know that. They will live in sin, but the sin will be compounded.

 

He added that one day I might be able to see that he’s happy with this young man and one day I might be even be happy for them.

 

How can he think such things, let alone say them aloud?

 

I tried to talk to Father Tom about this, but he seemed to feel that the church’s teaching might be too strident against the concept of tolerance and forgiveness that he embraces.

 

He’s such a saint, but he simply doesn’t understand what is really going on with Brian and this child. I know that a soul as pure as his can’t fully understand this sort of perversion.

 

I just wish that Brian could see what he’s doing. I know that he has a good job and is handsome and thinks that he loves this—boy, but I know how much happier he would be if he just accepted that the devil has corrupted him and led him astray.

 

I try to tell him, but he won’t listen. If he would just accept this, come back to the church, he would see how much happier he could be.

 

He doesn’t believe that I want what’s best for him. I’m his mother—Dear God, I just want what I’ve always wanted for him, that He live an honest and productive life, that he follow the Lord and that he be a success. I told him this when I saw him last.

 

He sneered, like he always does and it just broke my heart.

 

He was always such a smart, happy little thing and I was so proud of him, and now this.

 

He’ll always be in my prayers, of course, but I’m afraid that he might be lost.

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