What a year, eh? Highs like Obama winning the election and more states legalizing gay marriage; Horrible lows like Hurricane Sandy and Newtown, CT. It's kind of hard to say anything good about 2012 after Newtown. I kind of feel the same about my personal 2012...a real roller coaster ride of emotions.
You know that when you get on a roller coaster ride and you hear that tick tick tick of the chain that soon you'll be plummeting to the bottom of the rails at warp speed. That was me, trudging along working way too many hours and putting up with way too much bullshit. I knew the bottom was going to fall out at some point. I finally did the right thing and got out. I've got a job now that isn't trying to kill me or my relationships. And, as you know, I got legally married to the girl of my dreams this year. The coaster made it all the way back to the top. But roller coasters always have at least two plunges, right?
I've been on hellacious roller coasters before. In 2004 we built a house and moved in with big plans and dreams in our heads. My gal wanted a baby, so we started fertility testing. Ultrasounds revealed some growths on her ovaries. It was cancer. Fertility testing actually saved her life, but it didn't save her ovaries or uterus. There was relief because it could have been worse; grief because it was still a loss. Her dream of having a child was gone.
In 2005 we lost Bryan and my partner's mother within a week of each other. Gut wrenching. This was our personal Newtown.
You wonder how you'll get through it. How you'll even find the strength to get out of bed sometimes. But life goes on for the living. You find ways.
In August of that year my gal saw an ad in the newspaper for White German Shepherd pups. She nonchalantly commented that she had always wanted one. We already had a dog, one she had bottle fed as a pup because he was the runt of his litter. But he was getting up in years and I thought - if something happened to him that year - well, I didn't think she'd recover. I didn't know if I'd recover. We were hanging on by threads as it was. There was part of me that thought a puppy would be unfair to bring into that old dog's life, and another part of me that didn't want a puppy in my grieving life either. But my gal's birthday was coming up and my friends talked me into at least going to take a look at them. They really didn't have to push too hard.
I went after work one night and drove out in the country to this run-down farm house with several scrap cars in the backyard. Two huge Black and Tan German Shepherds were chained up to their dog houses and barked at me, but in a friendly way. A gaggle of white pups made a bee-line under one of the cars when they realized I was standing there. Well, all of them except for one little fluffball that wagged her tail and came running up to me without an ounce of fear. I was hooked. Any doubts melted away. I took her right then and there and headed for home. She curled up in the seat and fell asleep less than a mile from the farmhouse. So much for separation anxiety. I'll never forget my gal's face when she saw her - she lit up like a Christmas tree. I hadn't seen much of that in the last few years. On the other hand, the old dog was not at all pleased. He sniffed her and then growled like an old man with a grudge. This was not going to be easy.
We named her Maggie Mae, in homage to my gal's mom Margaret. She was the smartest and happiest and bravest and fiestiest pup I've ever seen. She wasn't afraid of the mean old grump who growled and snapped at her - she just kept going back at him until she won him over with her charm and wit. She'd stick her little butt in his face and while he was sniffing she'd steal his ball or toy or bone before he realized what was happening. She'd jump on his back and bite his tail, knowing that he couldn't get his fat old body turned round fast enough to do anything about it. But you know what? It made him young again. That gray-bearded old dog started to smile and play like he used to. Maggie picked up all of our spirits.
Anyone who loves dogs will tell you that their dog is the best dog in the world, so saying that about Maggie seems cliche. I've had lots of dogs in my life and I've loved them all, but none compare to Mags. None. We have two other White Shepherds now and I love them to pieces, but Mags is still the best. (Who says parents don't have favorites?) There are so many stories to tell about Maggie but not enough time or space here to do her justice. I suppose I could write a book, but then that's already been done, hasn't it? I don't know...Here I am, self-proclaimed master of the written word, and I can't find a way to adequately describe what makes her so special. I guess if I had to narrow it down to one thing I'd say it was her smile. Yes, dogs smile.
And now back to that roller coaster ride...
Maggie passed away this year. She was smiling and chasing tennis balls one day, and the next day could hardly get up off the floor. We found out she had cancer and it had spread like wildfire. Within a week she was gone. I know it's not the same as Newtown. I know it's not the same as our personal Newtown. But it hurts bad.
In 2012 we got married. Our family expressed their love and acceptance. I got a sane job. Obama won re-election and marriage equality took more leaps forward. But we lost Maggie. Newtown lost children. How do you reconcile all that?
For auld lang syne my dear,
For auld lang syne
We'll take a cup of kindness yet
For the sake of auld lang syne.
In honor of Maggie:
http://web.photodex.com/view/28wcm28
Thursday, December 27, 2012
Saturday, December 08, 2012
Marriage and Acceptance
I've been thinking about what to write first in my effort to catch up here, and everything I thought of seemed to be a Debbie Downer (make that ‘Debi with an i’ just to be consistent). I'm really not all doom and gloom; it just seems that I tend to write more often about the trials of my life. I guess when things are good there's no need to lament. I was preparing to write of another bleak time in history, but then it happened...something that brought me to tears of joy, so I must share. First a little history (which, by the way, allows me to share other happy moments):
I met the love of my life twelve years ago. Neither of us was looking for love; it just happened. I think that’s how I knew it was real, because I wasn’t searching for it. It just whacked me on the head and sent me flying. It was a semi long-distance relationship at first, but within 9 months we were living together in Euphoria. We bought matching gold and silver rings and inside our little rented house the two of us promised to love and cherish each other forever. At the time that’s all the ceremony we needed and we really didn’t expect we could ever have anything more. Both of our families were still reeling over the fact that we were gay (gasp!) and that we were in love (yuck!) and that we were living together and sleeping together (horror!). Having a ceremony with friends and relatives wasn’t really in the cards.
With time came our family’s acceptance of our relationship. But ‘acceptance’ is a relative term. I know there are members of the family that love us unconditionally and could care less that we’re not one man and one woman. They get that we love each other, and they love us, and that’s all that matters. Others outwardly appeared to accept our relationship, but at what level? For example, my mom has said on more than one occasion, “I don’t understand it, but you’re my daughter and I love you.” Is that acceptance? I’m not so sure. It’s hard to tell what’s really in someone’s heart, you know?
Anyway, the years go by and we watch family and friends get married left and right, and it begins to irritate me. We should be able to stand in front of our family and friends and show them our commitment to each other. We should be able to have that perfect white wedding with lace and flowers and organ music and whatever…We should be able to have a big reception bash with a toast from the best man and maid of honor, and have a first dance and shove cake in each other’s face. We should be able to do all that. But Marriage is between a man and a woman don’t you know…
So I tried to talk my partner into a commitment ceremony to do all those things we should be able to do, even though it wouldn’t be ‘accepted’ by the state because political groups and religious right ringers decided it shouldn’t be. But being the realist that she is, she saw no point in doing something that means nothing. I get that, but I still wanted to do it, because I wanted family and friends to get it (us). I wanted true acceptance and this was how I thought I’d get it.
Then New York legalized same sex marriage, and was the only state in which you didn’t have to be residents to do so. BINGO! My love asked me to marry her. We started to plan. I called my best friend, she called hers. Mine said yes, she’d be my maid of honor. Hers said no, it was against her beliefs. Really? Wow, what a shot to the chin. You’ve been BEST friends with someone for over twenty years and then you find out you’re not really ‘accepted’ after all. That’s what was in her heart. Then…you have a brother (who has been married 3 times by the way) that says it’s against his beliefs as well. He loves you and wants you to be happy, but… That’s what was in his heart.
We decided to hold off on the wedding – not because of them, screw them – but because we wanted to save up for that perfect white wedding and big bash reception. Then happenstance; we were going to a dog show in Massachusetts, which meant traveling through the state of New York. How could we possibly travel through the state and not get hitched? So we did; kind of a spur of the moment thing. We really only told a handful of people, and off we went. We got LEGALLY MARRIED in the State of New York by a Clerk in a courthouse in front of two witnesses (people that love us unconditionally and could care less that we’re not one man and one woman). We didn’t wear lace; we wore shorts. She forgot her gold and silver ring and I couldn’t get mine off my finger, so we bought $8 rings at a tourist trap and placed them on each other’s pinkies. I wrote vows and cried through all of them. She sang Amanda Marshall’s “Marry Me” and I cried through all of it. And you know what? It was perfect.
A month later we traveled down state to my wife’s (I love saying that) Dad and Stepmom’s house for the annual Thanksgiving family shindig. As usual it was a packed house; young and old, babies and teenagers and elders. We had the big dinner and then some started asking to see the wedding video. Everyone piled into the living room. I was more than a bit nervous to tell you the truth. There we were on a big screen TV, holding hands and kissing after the clerk announced we were partners for life. How many of them were going to be accepting of that? When the video was over some applauded, some “awwwed”, some smiled, some came and hugged us and said congratulations. At least no one gasped or stormed out of the room, so I thought it went pretty well. We started to show more video of our trip, but I noticed that the crowd started quietly thinning out. Okay, it was your typical boring vacation video, but in the back of my head I was thinking that they were leaving because they really didn’t accept what they just saw and wanted to get the hell out of the room to gag or puke or pray.
And then…when we left the living room we were greeted by bubbles floating in the air and two rows of family clapping and shouting “Congratulations!” – Our very own reception line. And after we made it through the line, there sat a tiered wedding cake with flowers in our favorite colors, and champagne, and wedding cards from everyone. We were floored. Flabbergasted. Overwhelmed with emotion. My wife did something she rarely does – she cried. And of course I cried. We somehow managed to choke out a toast and tried to tell everyone how much it meant to us. My Father-in-law and Mother-in-law hugged me and told me that they had always considered me a part of the family and that they loved me. My Brother-in-law (the one that said it was against his beliefs) hugged his sister and with tears streaming down his face told her that he loved her and that he was happy for us. Our surprise wedding reception was perfect.
So I finally got what I wanted. I married the love of my life. We had a wedding and a reception and some cake shoved in the face. We were able to stand in front of our family and friends and show them our commitment to each other. We got to see what was in their hearts. We were accepted.
I met the love of my life twelve years ago. Neither of us was looking for love; it just happened. I think that’s how I knew it was real, because I wasn’t searching for it. It just whacked me on the head and sent me flying. It was a semi long-distance relationship at first, but within 9 months we were living together in Euphoria. We bought matching gold and silver rings and inside our little rented house the two of us promised to love and cherish each other forever. At the time that’s all the ceremony we needed and we really didn’t expect we could ever have anything more. Both of our families were still reeling over the fact that we were gay (gasp!) and that we were in love (yuck!) and that we were living together and sleeping together (horror!). Having a ceremony with friends and relatives wasn’t really in the cards.
With time came our family’s acceptance of our relationship. But ‘acceptance’ is a relative term. I know there are members of the family that love us unconditionally and could care less that we’re not one man and one woman. They get that we love each other, and they love us, and that’s all that matters. Others outwardly appeared to accept our relationship, but at what level? For example, my mom has said on more than one occasion, “I don’t understand it, but you’re my daughter and I love you.” Is that acceptance? I’m not so sure. It’s hard to tell what’s really in someone’s heart, you know?
Anyway, the years go by and we watch family and friends get married left and right, and it begins to irritate me. We should be able to stand in front of our family and friends and show them our commitment to each other. We should be able to have that perfect white wedding with lace and flowers and organ music and whatever…We should be able to have a big reception bash with a toast from the best man and maid of honor, and have a first dance and shove cake in each other’s face. We should be able to do all that. But Marriage is between a man and a woman don’t you know…
So I tried to talk my partner into a commitment ceremony to do all those things we should be able to do, even though it wouldn’t be ‘accepted’ by the state because political groups and religious right ringers decided it shouldn’t be. But being the realist that she is, she saw no point in doing something that means nothing. I get that, but I still wanted to do it, because I wanted family and friends to get it (us). I wanted true acceptance and this was how I thought I’d get it.
Then New York legalized same sex marriage, and was the only state in which you didn’t have to be residents to do so. BINGO! My love asked me to marry her. We started to plan. I called my best friend, she called hers. Mine said yes, she’d be my maid of honor. Hers said no, it was against her beliefs. Really? Wow, what a shot to the chin. You’ve been BEST friends with someone for over twenty years and then you find out you’re not really ‘accepted’ after all. That’s what was in her heart. Then…you have a brother (who has been married 3 times by the way) that says it’s against his beliefs as well. He loves you and wants you to be happy, but… That’s what was in his heart.
We decided to hold off on the wedding – not because of them, screw them – but because we wanted to save up for that perfect white wedding and big bash reception. Then happenstance; we were going to a dog show in Massachusetts, which meant traveling through the state of New York. How could we possibly travel through the state and not get hitched? So we did; kind of a spur of the moment thing. We really only told a handful of people, and off we went. We got LEGALLY MARRIED in the State of New York by a Clerk in a courthouse in front of two witnesses (people that love us unconditionally and could care less that we’re not one man and one woman). We didn’t wear lace; we wore shorts. She forgot her gold and silver ring and I couldn’t get mine off my finger, so we bought $8 rings at a tourist trap and placed them on each other’s pinkies. I wrote vows and cried through all of them. She sang Amanda Marshall’s “Marry Me” and I cried through all of it. And you know what? It was perfect.
A month later we traveled down state to my wife’s (I love saying that) Dad and Stepmom’s house for the annual Thanksgiving family shindig. As usual it was a packed house; young and old, babies and teenagers and elders. We had the big dinner and then some started asking to see the wedding video. Everyone piled into the living room. I was more than a bit nervous to tell you the truth. There we were on a big screen TV, holding hands and kissing after the clerk announced we were partners for life. How many of them were going to be accepting of that? When the video was over some applauded, some “awwwed”, some smiled, some came and hugged us and said congratulations. At least no one gasped or stormed out of the room, so I thought it went pretty well. We started to show more video of our trip, but I noticed that the crowd started quietly thinning out. Okay, it was your typical boring vacation video, but in the back of my head I was thinking that they were leaving because they really didn’t accept what they just saw and wanted to get the hell out of the room to gag or puke or pray.
And then…when we left the living room we were greeted by bubbles floating in the air and two rows of family clapping and shouting “Congratulations!” – Our very own reception line. And after we made it through the line, there sat a tiered wedding cake with flowers in our favorite colors, and champagne, and wedding cards from everyone. We were floored. Flabbergasted. Overwhelmed with emotion. My wife did something she rarely does – she cried. And of course I cried. We somehow managed to choke out a toast and tried to tell everyone how much it meant to us. My Father-in-law and Mother-in-law hugged me and told me that they had always considered me a part of the family and that they loved me. My Brother-in-law (the one that said it was against his beliefs) hugged his sister and with tears streaming down his face told her that he loved her and that he was happy for us. Our surprise wedding reception was perfect.
So I finally got what I wanted. I married the love of my life. We had a wedding and a reception and some cake shoved in the face. We were able to stand in front of our family and friends and show them our commitment to each other. We got to see what was in their hearts. We were accepted.
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