Ronnie’s ride home was spent much as the ride in to Boston had been spent: in contemplation of the issues in her family. And the current topic was her love for Tim, despite his faults. This was rather unfair she well knew, because despite his recent revelations, no one knew Tim better than she.

There was no doubt that Ronnie loved Tim. They had made it through 15 years all told, 13 of them married.

Oh, Tim had his annoying quirks and opinions – like hating feminism and feminists. When Tim felt the need to comment on feminism, Ronnie would feel an urge to pour a very chilled drink over his head. Tim was not a Rush Limbaugh conservative – far from it – but he bought into the notion of feminazis – the fantasy realm where women advocating for equal rights are men hating lesbians, who without exception once burned bras and never ever removed a hair from their legs.

And this was most ironic, Ronnie mused. Here was this newly identified transgendered person, claiming to be born with a birth defect related to physical sex, trying to rejoin the gender this person often short changed and stereotyped. In a way, Ronnie loved the karma potential that came with this revelation.

That was as far as she was willing to go in terms of finding amusement in this. Tim was hurting, Tim was all screwed up, and as a result, Ronnie and the girls were getting sucked into the emotional vortex.

Ronnie was looking for hope where none might exist. Was she looking for compromise? How do people ‘compromise’ on gender? ‘OK, you feel like you are a woman, but I married a man, so… you be a man on Saturday, Monday, Wednesday and Friday, and you can be a woman the other 3 days of the week!’ Ronnie’s sarcasm laced humour had surfaced once again.

Would the end result be the dissolution of their marriage? Is that what this would come to? Or might Tim be brought to a place via therapy where he might be able to continue onward as Tim, though he might have lapses or need a great deal of support to stay afloat?

The thoughts continually played through Ronnie’s mind. The therapy and support approach would be nice. She would be more than willing to hold Tim upright every step of the way, so long s he fought falling prey to what was ripping him apart.

On the other hand, if Tim persisted in moving to transition, Ronnie knew their marriage would end… Ronnie was not a lesbian, and while she could somewhat understand the need for Tim to be what something deep inside was saying he was, so too did Ronnie have to be true to herself. And not to mention she would be a single custodial parent, with all the responsibility of such in a family with children.

And that was where Ronnie needed someone she could trust to give her options and the potential of each option. Dr. Ellsworth would have to be that person, no one else she knew was capable of such objective evaluation.

“Objective evaluation…” the very notion of something so emotionally charged carrying objectivity struck Ronnie in a very unkind way. Steering with her left hand, she wiggled her right hand into her bag, searching for the small pack of tissues she always carried. After about 20 seconds of searching, she pulled out the pack, pulled off a tissue, and began to wipe away the tears.