My parents are dead also, and I'm currently going through a lot of grief and sadness that they never had a chance to know me as me. I don't think my mother would have accepted me, although she might have learned to fake it, but my father... in some way, he accepted me as I was as a little kid, and loved doing father-son things with me: teaching me carpentry, woodcarving, how to shoot, etc. I think he might have been fine with my transition, but I'll never know. As for for my mother, I worked as hard as I knew how in the last few years of her life to clear up "unfinished business" with her. It was an uphill battle because she was a flaming narcissist, but things were better in the end. But now there's a huge rip in that, and it feels like I failed with her after all. I feel great regret about that, and that she never had the chance to accept me, even though I'm pretty sure she wouldn't have.
Don't burn your bridges, Grace. This is perfect: "Thanks Dad. Happy Easter. Love Grace"
