Sunday, May 3, 2015

"My Gay Guy and I..." from KIDNAPPED TWICE

When I worked for the scientific company, I met a great friend who lived in New York City and would come up almost every weekend to ride the horses and visit. We would go to the shows for horse products and work these shows together. We became close friends. He always did make me laugh, which was not easy in those days.

I remember one night when we were in Pennsylvania at dinner. He said he had something important to tell me. He had always been talking about his “girlfriend” when we were together. This night he told me that his “girlfriend” was a man, and that he was gay.

I had known he was gay for a very long time. I told him he could be purple and I would not care. We were friends whether he was gay or not. After that, he would sometimes bring his partner up with him on the weekends. My best girlfriend and I would go to dinner with the two of them.

When I was going through hard times with my house, this friend from the City helped me with a loan. I told him I would pay him back the day of closing. He said that he knew I would, and I did.

He knew me for a long time. I did not date anyone, so he put an advertisement in the Village Voice, which I knew nothing about until I started receiving letters from a lot of men! Most of them were prisoners. My friend from the City thought it would be a good thing, but it was not. We laughed about it later. When I left that job and moved out of town, we lost touch with each other. If he reads this, he will know I’m writing about him.


When I was married to my son’s father, he had a tractor-trailer and drove as an over-the-road trucker. He wanted to purchase a stainless steel box trailer, with which he felt he could haul more products. He convinced his mother to help him with the purchase. When he could not keep up with the payments, it was repossessed. When that day came, my young son and I were present.

This became important years later, after I was divorced. Somehow, the owner of the company that repossessed the trailer had noticed me and found out that I was single and that I was living in a small town with my son. I have no idea how the owner found me, as I always had, and still do have, an unlisted telephone number. He did find me, and he asked me out. My boyfriend, Bruce, was in one of his running-around phases, which was always very hurtful, but which I was stupid enough to excuse.

This very nice man asked me out. He was good to my son, which impressed me. He was very respectful to me and never put any pressure on me to be anything other than just a friend. Then came the Sunday when he wanted to take me up in his plane. I was afraid of flying but decided to go. I wanted to have my son with me, which was fine with my friend. He showed up with a big Teddy bear for my son, and off we went to the small airport where he had his plane.

We went up in the plane, which my son was enjoying a lot, and I was not! He flew over where I live and where Bruce lived, so I was trying to pick out Bruce’s place. Looking down was not the thing to do when I was already feeling nauseous. I told my friend that I was afraid I was going to be sick. He flew us back to the airport. The landing was so scary that it convinced me that this relationship could not go forward.

There were so many things he wanted to help me with, but my biggest problem was I still had strong feelings for Bruce. My friend tried to convince me that I did not have to go flying again, but I knew that he loved flying.

These are the stupid reasons I did not continue the relationship, which– as I look back on it now– was an immature decision on my part. My friend was a genuinely good person who cared for me. I guess I can say that it was the wrong time in my life. I do believe that if I had let the relationship grow, it would have been a good thing for me and my son. I hope he met someone who appreciated his kindness and has had a happy life!


During the summer months, I worked at a farm auction. The farmers would bring their fruit and vegetables to be auctioned off to farm stands and other vendors. (I worked at the Police Department at night.) The auction job was very fast-paced. There was an older farmer who was one of the sweetest people I ever met. He would bring these huge blackberries that were delicious. The road-stand people paid top price for these berries. This sweet man handed me a folded piece of paper one day and told me to unfold it and read it after work was done. He had written me a poem, which I consider one of my prized possessions. I keep it in my Bible.

What a beautiful gift it was for someone to write me a poem!

After I came to the farm that I now live on, I tried to contact the family of this man to try to grow the same blackberries. No one remembers but me!

These tiny pieces of my life are very important to me.


During the time I lived in the three-family home with my first husband, the family on the first floor had two sons. The two sons became close friends of mine. One became a lawyer; the other went into the antique business.

The lawyer ended up having two children, a boy and a girl. He then became divorced, with custody of both of the children. As I was going through the ordeal with my house, I called him for help. We started seeing each other once in a while. His mother and father had a condo in Florida. When he and his children were making plans to go there, he asked me if I wanted to go. I did, and we went together.

At the same time, I was beginning to think that something was wrong with me, as I was not feeling myself. I blamed it on all the stress that I had been going through. I had not been to a doctor in years, which turned out to be one of the big mistakes in my life. I did not say anything to anyone.

One day while in Florida, we were all coming home from the beach. My friend was driving, and his kids were having a loud disagreement that seemed to go on forever. I could not take it any more and I shouted for them to “shut up!” I have never told anyone else in my life to shut up, much less kids. We all flew home, and he and I never saw each other again.

More years went by, and I still did not go to see a doctor. When I finally did see one, I found out that I had been dealing with Type I, hereditary, diabetes most of my life.

When I look back on certain moments of my life, I can at least put a name to my not being me. I realize now that in the car I was having a low-blood-sugar attack. When I have a low-blood-sugar attack, I get very agitated and shaky. I could not take the loud arguing anymore. I just wish I had handled it better. I bought them Christmas gifts and left the gifts on their doorstep, but I never heard anything from them, which is what I expected. I would’ve been very upset if someone told my son to shut up even today. If they read this, I hope they know I’m sorry!


We are serializing here the memoir KIDNAPPED TWICE: Then Betrayed and Abandoned by Mary E. Seaman and myself, published by Outskirts Press and available in paperback and ebook formats from OP,,, and other on-line booksellers.

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