I should probably explain the whole Will & Grace 2.0 thing. It started in November, but Grace started in 1985. Since I am at a library computer, I can more easily type. (And update the blog. Geez, how many uncategorized posts are now categorized! So much easier than from my cell.)
In 1985, my parents made me move to Norway, disrupting my college education, unearthing more of Gunn’s (“Mom”) need to control every fucking thing, including Dad, and generally screwing up our lives and depleting Dad’s pension and making sure they would never be able to afford much of anything again. We were there for 6 months. Bought a house, bought a Volvo, but they couldn’t work. Gunn, who was never a registered nurse, didn’t look for work. Dad couldn’t work. because Gunn had made sure his Merchant Sea Captain’s license became invalid (threw out the renewals sent to Dad by the Norwegian Merchant Marine). Only I could get a job as a Grocery Clerk asking customers what this thing they were buying was called in Norwegian. The customers thought I was adorable. A 20-year old from California with a Northern Norwegian accent in Southern Norway. Several of the dear elderly folk offered me “tips”. It was a good gig.
I wanted to go to college, and Dad wanted to for me too, but the University was 1 1/2 hours away by train and Gunn thought that was “too far”. The real issue was, they had researched nothing, I would have had to transfer from a US College or University, or I would have to learn to write in Norwegian and apply since I had no “native” school records. Oops! Not accepetable to Gunn. I was smart. I could write. Never having had a reading or writing lesson in Norwegain, how would I become so extraordinarily adept in a few weeks? By osmosis? No, I was smart! Get a grip, bitch. And I couldn’t live in Oslo. I had to remain in Tønsberg, where they bought a house. Control of me and my every movement was so important to her.
Dad made the decision to return to Califonia since he could do nothing there with his education and experience, and I couldn’t move on with my life because of her interference and control, but we had to visit her family up North first. And this is where I learned Grace and became it.
Gunn’s parents, my grandparents, were good Christian folk. Kinda Baptist by American standards, but with a rich and deep ethhic about how you should be and act. I had no issues with it, but Gunn did. She was chastised by her father several times in my presence over the years. Let’s just say, I knew of no one that ever wore leather pants to church, but she would until Granpa said no. She wouldn’t embarrass the family by doing THAT. I was dressed as a version of Alice in Wonderland which he thought was so appropriate. They had so much respect for Dad.
Grandma told me, when I was visiting there at 17, not to listen to Gunn. Listen to Dad. He was better at being a good parent. She didn’t “know” her daughter anymore, but she realized that I took after Dad and that was good. Imagine! Your grandmother saying you have more sense than her daughter! Inside, I was smiling like a Cheshire cat. I knew that already.
But in the fall of 1985 – the last time I would be in that beautiful place that had become the home of my heart – my cousin ViviAnn and I were walking along the shore and I told her this place had been touched by the Grace of God. This was a place of beauty that He had created for us to be in awe of, which I was. This spot humbled me and the thought of it still does. That is when I became Grace and chose to live my life that way. I have never deviated from that one true belief and why I choose to take care of Gunn in the last years of her life. I can’t forgive her for ALL she did, but He can. Taking care of her is what He wanted me to do, and I did with love and mercy, though her family is willing to disparage me for it. Like they did any-thing at all except bitch and tell me what to do.
So, that’s when Grace started, but it wasn’t until November 2018 that I became Gracie to my beloved Will. My fabulously gay friend, and thus Will & Grace 2.0 came into being, as many people started calling me Grace due to Will (and I hated being called Wendy, because Venka is so damn hard). He’s my best friend, my trophy husband, my support, my strength and often my voice. And he has my heart, as he has mine. He’s just about my everything. Well. except that one thing. Ahem.
More about Will later. At least you know part of the back story. Will’s is far more interesting, and a very sad tale of greed, deceit, death and an unscrupulous brother. But, damn, he had a PRESENCE. Poor Gary. He shoudn’t have fucked over big brother. Again. But Will isn’t alone anymore. He has me.