Dementia is stealing one of my favorite people.
I think this falls under trigger warning? I don't know.
So, my favorite uncle was the only one who knew about my truth. Well, many of them. Never judged me. He was an eccentric black man living his life a bit misunderstood at times. This man did not give a flying fuck. He was his black self everywhere he went. But he was also the only one who you can tell things like "hey, I'm queer." and he'd go "Are you still human? Are you still good? That's all that matters"
In his late 70s, dementia really did a number. It wasn't too bad at first. But, today, we went to visit him at the nursing home. (We can't really have him live with us because we don't have a proper place for him. And, we don't the tools to take care of him. Or else he wouldn't be in a nursing home.). He didn't recognize me at first. Then, there was a flash when of recognition when my mom told him my nickname he called me as when I was a little child.
I just wanted to share my feelings in a safe space. I'm losing one of the few people that cared about me. Authentic me. Who never judged me or used my attempts against me. I don't know how I feel. I don't know if I am strong enough to still visit him. Like, it hurts.
Now, I am back having almost no one in my family who will be okay with the queer side of me. (Most of them are Christians and most of them are well Black and...well...Black from across the globe...lots of queerphobia in general)