After the somewhat emotionally traumatic week I’ve had it’s been so helpful to have received a lot of reassurance and support from my readers and fellow bloggers. Thank you to all who have been in touch, it really means a lot.

I followed up on one comment I received by reading through that lady’s blog and came across something which has highlighted a dilemma I face.

What happens when I die?

Mum and Dad both passed away during the Nineties, and this was well before I had my self-awareness epiphany. They, therefore, only ever knew me by my male name and knew nothing of what was to come.

When Mum passed away Dad was still living in their home town, Reading, and he had her cremated and her ashes scattered in the Garden of Remembrance.

I was living in Wales at the time and Dad moved up there a little while later, living in a bungalow at the end of our garden which my then partner I had had built on a piece of adjoining land that she had purchased.

Dad loved that bungalow, and especially waking up each morning to the hillside view out of his bedroom window, so when his time finally came we decided to have him buried in the local churchyard so he could see that hillside for ever.

(Sorry, the tears are flowing ….)

To my detriment he still doesn’t have a headstone, but I’ve discussed the style with my daughter, we’ve agreed on what we both like, and I WILL have one made for him.

For my part I’ve also told my daughter that I want to spend my eternity with Dad, but here’s where the problem lies … What name do I have on the headstone when the time comes?

I’ll soon be going through the process of getting my name officially changed to Tish Wolfsong, but Dad never knew me as her. Then again, I don’t want to be “remembered” by my birth name, TNH, because for me that has never been who I really am.

TNH died seven years ago when I finally realised my truth, even though a lot of him lives on in me today.

I wouldn’t want to “sleight” Dad’s memory or belatedly offend the person I’ve looked up to all my life, and still do, but TNH was never really ME.

If you have any words of wisdom or comfort in this regard I’d be really pleased to hear them.

Thank you, and stay safe.

(When this song first came out in 1992 it touched me so much. I know why Clapton wrote it, but I also knew that it had a relevance for me that I couldn’t define at that time. Now I understand.)