OUT AT THE HOME

I decided this entry deserved a title thus the above in all caps and bold font.

To begin with I do not ever recall, in my life, not being out. I have committed the "sin of ommission" now and then over the years just to avoid any need to defend myself and who I am when I did not feel it was necessary given the person or people involved. For many years Robert and I called ourselves "my friend", "my roommate", "partner" just to avoid confrontations and/or difficulties in getting paperwork taken care of or to not place ourselves or anyone else in a position that a confrontation might happen. I know that is all not being out behavior but at the same time we thought nothing of walking down the street holding hands or sitting in a restaurant making "goo goo" eyes at one another.

After all our years together, when we were finally allowed to get married, we ceased all that and became husbands both in private and every where we went. And, as you have heard me say (or read me write) he was my husband before it was legal, he was my husband then and he will be my husband for the rest of eternity.

Now, here at the home.  I still, and will always have on, my wedding ring. And, bless their little pointed heads, all the residents that I meet just assume that I am widowed from a traditional male to female marriage. While I don't actively encourage that thought neither do I actively go out of my way to correct it. I have and continue to, in conversations, say "we had this" or "we lived such and such a place" which does not constitute openess about Robert's and my relationship but denies it only in the "sin of omission" manner.

Until yesterday. I decided to go out for a nice walk when the temps rose above 50 degrees for the first time in days. As I was leaving the building a resident named Jon (we have three other Jon's living here besides myself) was sitting in one of the rocking porch swing chairs getting some sun. Jon is one of the first people I met before moving in here and he is one of the people I play rummikub with a couple of time a week. So, we began to chat.

Since it was the day after Christmas that was the focus of our conversation and he asked about my family. I told him about having next to no family left alive and how this was only the second holiday season where I had been alone and that it was still something I was adjusting to. This provoked a question by Jon about how long my "wife" and I were together. To which I replied without hesitation that "my Husband Robert and I were together for most of our lives but only allowed to get married six years before he died." 

Jon sat there for just a few seconds then said "but, you were married?" To which I replied that yes, as soon as it was legally allowed we tied the knot. The conversation continued for a bit longer and Jon said that I was the first man he had ever known that had been in a long term relationship and acknowledge that it must be really hard to loose someone after so many years together (without any reference to gender). It was sort of funny though that every few sentences he would say "but you were married" like he was putting that in some sort of order in his brain.

There was really no discomfort on either of our parts in this conversation and it was as much a ice breaking moment for me as it must have been for him. I finally excused myself and continued on my walk and when I got back Jon had gone inside.

Now flash forward to dinner time. I went to our cafeteria and it was packed except for a couple of unoccupied tables. I took a seat at one of them, placed my order with the waitress and sat waiting for my meal. In walks Jon with the two ladies I play rummikub with and asked if they could join me. We sat together, had a nice dinner together with nice conversation and never once did anyone say anything related to Jon's and my conversation earlier in the day. Just four elderly friends having dinner together.

I have no idea if Jon said or will say anything to anyone about our conversation. I have no idea if there may be any other Gay widows or widowers living here and it really does not matter one way or the other. I am not at all interested in forming a sort of geriatric Gay Grey Panthers group. I do know that, at least for me, it broke the ice that older Gay people seem to have wrapped themselves in when they reach the point of having to find and live in "the home" when there are so few, if any, alternatives to pick from that are affordable and supportive. Contrary to popular belief most Gay people do not reach the apex of their live flush with cash. So you often have to take whatever living arrangements are available.

After my conversation with Jon I will continue to say things like "we did or we lived" statements. But if it is ever a part of the conversation I will not hesitate to say "my Husband and I" and I will willingly take on the task of doing whatever explaining is necessary short of any apologetic defense of our relationship. Robert's and my marriage is as valid as that of any other person living here and lasted longer than many.

So, I guess that is the first step of being out at the home.

I am sitting here now writing this and just looked over at Robert's picture on the wall and can just hear him saying "be careful Jon, don't rock the boat, you have a good thing here, just don't blow it" but I also know that if he were still alive he would walk up to me in the cafeteria this morning, give me wonderful kiss and say "what's for breakfast."