I never met my first love's father, though I saw him just once.  His father was committed to an institution 8 years before I met Jay.  Jay was 16 when this happened.  He was the oldest, and immediately became the man of the house, the responsibilities of running the family farm thrust upon him.

He didn't endure anything countless others haven't had and worse through eons of human experience.  At least he and his mom, and his brothers and sisters had the farm.  They did OK.

I met him when he was 24.  His mother, Phylis, always intrigued me.  She had the light of a girl in her eyes.  She must have been - oh what - at least 44 when I met her.  Barely older than I am, now.  She was pretty - beautiful when she smiled.  The beauty of a woman who raises chickens and bucket calves and drives tracktors and combines.  ...But her husband had been in a what? - nursing home? mental hospital? for 8 years.  Eight years.  He didn't know who she was any more.  But still she visited him.  I don't know how often.

He had Huntington's Disease.  This is a multi-faceted genetic disease that usually presents itself in one's 40's or 50's.  Once you know you have it, you have probably already had children.  There is a 50% chance that they will get it.  Jay is 50 now.  As far as I know he is symptom-free.

Jay told me that he only saw his father cry once.  When he was small, his mother was helping his father with a hitch.  Something went wrong and one of her fingers was severed.  His father blamed himself and was devastated.  Jay never once saw his father angry or raising his voice toward his mother.  At least, not until after the symptoms appeared.

See, Huntington's affects the brain.  First it starts with nervous ticks and involuntary twitches and jerks.  Then your personality changes.  You may become angry, sullen, prone to outbursts.  You eventually lose the capacity to care for yourself.  Then dementia and death.  Jay saw all of that.  The loss of physical control, the loss of mental control.  Then he went away.  Shortly after that, he stopped recognizing themwhen they visited.  After a while jay stopped visiting.  Yet his mother still did.  Jay's father died when Jay was 26.  I went to the funeral of the man that I had never seen.  The father of the man I loved.  I was a foolish 16 year old child.  I could see the resemblance.  I could see almost precisely what my lover would look like in another 20 or so years.  Of course, that was 24 years ago.

About 10 years ago, I heard that Phylis had married again.  I heard that she was happy, had married a farmer from a town about 8 miles down the road.  I was so pleased by this news in a way that is difficult to explain.  I know how much she loved Jay's father.  And I know it now so much more than I knew it then.  And even though I haven't seen her in 20 years, I can still see her smile.  It was hauntingly beautiful.  Hauntingly.