S Lynn Knight, my guess is that your mother had been questioning herself about this subject before she learned about you. I would think that if she had any feelings at all towards other girls growing up and later thoughts of women, that when she heard the Billy Graham sermon, she became extremely anxious. I’m so sorry it might have been the reason she stepped away from her women friends. That’s sad.

You’re reminding me of something that happened during my early twenties. I had just been to a movie called “The Savage is Loose” with Trish Van Devere and George C. Scott. The two of them with their son were shipwrecked on a deserted island in the middle of nowhere. While she was sitting on some rocks by a stream brushing her long, beautiful hair, I realized that I was feeling attracted to her. I remember all of this so well because it scared me to death! What was happening? Why was I so drawn to her? Was I perhaps a lesbian and didn’t know it?

I had my appointment a day or so later with my psychoanalyst and told him all about it, but even before seeing him, I met a good friend going up in the elevator and told her all about it, too! What I came up with talking with my analyst was that my feelings were more sensual than sexual. I remember wanting to be held by this character in the movie and even by Trish Van Devere.

Many years later when I was married with my first child and in my mid thirties, I did have a relationship with a woman — both emotional and physical. That’s another story that I will want to write about at some point. But now, about your mother, she just might have had “just one of those things,” and perhaps she told your father her fears — — nothing to do with you or your sister.

“Just One Of Those Things” by Cole Porter

It was just one of those things
Just one of those crazy flings
One of those bells that now and then rings
Just one of those things

It was just one of those nights
Just one of those fabulous flights
A trip to the moon on gossamer wings
Just one of those things

If we’d thought a bit, of the end of it
When we started painting the town
We’d have been aware that our love affair
Was too hot, not to cool down

So goodbye, dear, and Amen
Here’s hoping we meet now and then
It was great fun
But it was just one of those things

Writer and copyeditor. “What doesn’t kill us gives us something new to write about” ~ J. Wright

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