As we slip closer to becoming the dystopian world we used to chuckle over while reading the fantastical novels of our youth, I now wonder about ever leaving the house. Even then paranoia creeps in while watching/listening/reading the news. It’s melting ice caps and fire storms. It’s waring tweets from men plenty old enough to know not to taunt but daily they do. There’s corruption in Facebook, phone apps listening, and Amazon with one-day deliveries causing insurmountable mountains of cardboard. Gun violence passing epidemic proportions that not even George Orwell would have imagined. Rational stuff gone daft too, like the inability to debate issues in Congress or use Science as a base for fact. Everyone is distrustful of any branch of government. People are retreating, especially the L.G.B.T., unsure if our marriages or jobs or civil rights will stand this latest round of Supreme Court discussions.
Tag Archives: same-sex marriage
I Do
Wedding Invites… Have at least one or two lying on your desk or stuck on your fridge? June through Labor Day weekends are awash with scanning gift registries, making travel plans, coordinating hotel stays, all for the sole purpose of being present for the lucky couple’s vows: Because that’s the whole point, right? To stand together, in churches or synagogues, on hilltops or beaches, to join in the public acknowledgement of the marriage, and inherent in that standing together, to support and celebrate this fragile union.
This I Believe
This is a story of love, yes, a love story, and one I believe deserves telling.
Most people ask us, as people ask of couples who have found each other despite bad odds, how did you two meet? Blind date, we always respond in unison. This gets a laugh or a loud what? and we pause, because here our two memories diverge. Remembering before we were a we is not easy after two decades through life’s bumps and bends, those close calls and those definitive calls too.
Twenty years ago. I hadn’t come out. She hadn’t either. Bars were smoky and just about the only place for gals like us to meet. Somehow we were lucky enough to avoid that thanks to the auspicious suggestion of a mutual friend. Immediately, we affixed like two clouds during a summer storm and ran the sky with booming thunder and flashing lightening. Six months later she packed up her place and moved into mine. Combined we were five, two moms and three kids, with cats, a dog, various fish, and another kid during the summers (a longer story). Old walls came down. New walls were built. Beds got shuffled. A family was born anew. Continue reading
Nine Cent Girl 