Free Oy Vey My Daughter's Gay by Sandra McCay Page A

I reckon if he was hypnotised it would all be in
there somewhere. Lila blames her lack of Spanish fluency on us not
finding a way to send her to the local Spanish school. We, in turn, blame our
lack of money on having to pay her private school fees.
    I found a part-time job proofreading for the local English
newspaper and John set about finding new English-speaking accountancy clients.
Our Spanish communication skills were limited, to say the least, but we had a
laugh at our mistakes, as well as tearing our hair out on occasions. We
particularly enjoyed wearing our individually-wrapped pristine clothes that
we’d taken to a dry cleaner, mistaking it for a laundry. When it all got too
much, we took a trip to the beach with the kids and later downed a fifty pence
box of ‘Don Simon’ wine.
    Our big move had happened in November, but Lila wanted to
spend Christmas with her grandparents. So we arranged for our five-year-old
daughter to fly from Spain to Scotland and back on her own. Nowadays, I’m sure
it wouldn’t even be allowed and the thought of parents even contemplating such
a thing seems ludicrous. Five-year-old Lila was like a scaled-down adult.  We
had meaningful discussions; she made her own decisions about most things and
the trip just didn’t seem like a big deal. She was looked after by an air
steward on the flight and her grandmother met her at the other end. The air
steward calmly informed us that the plane to Scotland had been delayed on the
runway and Lila had sung ‘Jingle Bells’ over the Tannoy to entertain the other
passengers. On her return, we got caught in traffic trying to pick her up from
Palma Airport, so she took out her book and calmly awaited our arrival. She was
that sort of girl.
    Happily, Lila loved her school and her teacher, who
apparently was her first lesbian crush. Lila had been desperate to impress Miss
Chadwick, which, in retrospect, explains some of her strange behaviour.  She
became so stressed at the prospect of playing the lead in the class play that
she wouldn’t rehearse it, resulting in the part being given to another child.
She suspects that losing that part was responsible for her fruitless attempts
to secure another main role during the rest of her school career.
    Lila has told us that, growing up, she had deliberately
cultivated a kind of quirkiness, not to mask her difference but to specifically
draw attention to it. She wanted people to accept that she was different, even
though she wasn’t ready mentally or emotionally to reveal in what way. Happily,
in Spain she found the ideal platform. Her school had seventeen nationalities
of kids, a laid-back vibe and swimming lessons in the Med. These were halcyon
days. Lila thrived. She quickly amassed a group of quirky and cool new friends.
It was a source of relief to us that the popular girls wanted her to be their
friend. Being two years younger than her classmates also won her respect for
her intelligence. She was endlessly amazed by her popularity. She bounced up
and down with joy as she mused out loud, “I don’t get it. Why do these girls
even like me?”
    We looked on happily as her new friendships thrived.
Socially there’s a big gap between eight and ten-year-olds, but she and
her friends made it work. While they turned up to a party wearing jeans
and cute tops, Lila, deaf to my pleading, insisted on wearing a pink party
dress and matching pumps. Lila’s literal nature told her that this was a party;
ergo party clothes. End of discussion. Her friends indulged her because
each of them had their own quirkiness. These girls nurtured and celebrated
Lila’s eccentricity and I could have hugged them for that. Lila’s best friend,
Julia watched ‘West Side Story’ every single day. One of the reasons Lila loved
Julia so much was that, being used to much older siblings, Julia effortlessly
controlled Lee − something Lila struggled with during her entire
childhood and teenage years. Lila treasured these moments