Marital Status? MARRIED!!!

On December 11, 2013, Donna and I were finally legally married! Marriage equality is still only a dream for too many same-sex couples, but New Jersey finally passed the law in October. Donna and I got married on the anniversary of our Civil Union, done five years ago. It's also Donna's parents' anniversary, which makes it even more special. They just celebrated 55 years of marriage this year.

Marriage equality,  AMEN!

The emotions I feel are surprising. I always knew that marriage was different from Commitment Ceremonies, Domestic Partnerships, or Civil Unions (all of which we did), but I didn't know how that would translate emotionally. There really are no words sufficient to express the magnitude and gratitude I feel that I can now call Donna my wife and have it be true legally, as well as emotionally. It was a long time coming. As Donna and I stood before our dear friend Laura Cotritch, who performed the marriage in a small service at our home, it was priceless. Our children sat nearby, holding hands and beaming with pride that they could share in our moment. It was one of the most profound moments I've shared with her. Only the birth of each of our children match it.

That same joy greeted me as I went to the town hall today and picked up our marriage certificate and realized, "I'm married now!" It's slowly sinking in. As I sat there admiring the certificate, I couldn't wait to go to my doctor's appointment on January 6th just so I could check off "married" on the paperwork. I wonder how many other couples who are married feel the same way? From my vantage point, having had to wait more than 13 years to check that box makes it more significant somehow.

We are truly blessed. The abundance of love and affection we received from family and friends was remarkable. It was a wonderful testament of the support and love we have always enjoyed, but their joy was only surpassed by our own. For example, my best friend of nearly 30 years drove 18 hours in the span of two days to be there and witness our marriage. And the love and affection just keep on coming. Imagine my surprise when a friend of ours bumped into me at the grocery store yesterday and was moved to tears (which moved me to tears) when she congratulated me and hugged me un-apologetically as I cashed out. 

So this blog is really a thank you to all of you who have seen us as a married couple well before December 11th, 2013. It's so special to know that you share in our love and support us so openly. It's also a call to action for the remaining 36 states in America that need to extend marriage equality to all of its citizens. Every couple, regardless of their orientation, should be able to enjoy all the rights, privileges and responsibility that comes with marriage. I'm absolutely thrilled that I get to enjoy mine with Donna-Mae Graffam.

"You're a pre-old lady."

Donna's 50th birthday is tomorrow and she's been embracing the last few days of her 40s with relish. As you can imagine, this milestone is the topic of many conversations in our home.

Skye loves birthdays. She seizes any opportunity to celebrate and party. I love her enthusiasm and zest for life. She really does mirror Donna in that way. As she's been learning more about birthdays and discerning what growing older means, she's establishing her own sliding scale for age. Although she believes that 50 is old, she also recognizes that Donna is in no way an "old lady." She believes that Donna acts like she's in college or even in high school, because she's so cool.

However, although I'm still in my early 40s, she announced last night at dinner that I'm a "pre-old lady." I've heard a lot of conditions that start with "pre-." Pre-diabetes, pre-hypertension, ,and pre-cancerous are some that come to mind. Now, Skye has coined the phrase, "pre-old lady." I suppose in medical terms, that would make me pre-geriatric.

As I think about our life together, Donna really has inspired me to have more fun by teaching me how embrace my inner-child and play more. Clearly, I have to show more playfulness to kick the "pre-old lady" label Skye has imposed on me. Donna perpetually finds ways to laugh at the absurdities of life and find ways to play. One of the highlights of our year is Halloween. As you can see in the photo, we love that holiday and join in the fun as often as possible. And I've even stepped out of my comfort zone and donned a "Clifford the Big Red Dog" costume during one of Skye's book fairs. So, Donna has given me the gift of playfulness.

Donna's my anti-dote for aging

I believe that playfulness makes for great longevity and that as our children grow up, they will recognize how fortunate they are to have parents who refuse to grow old. As each year passes, my definition for old continues to change. When I was Skye's age, I shared her idea that parents were old. Now, I refuse to believe I'm aging as quickly as our children are.

Clifford came to play at school one day

I think that as our children grow up, they would both agree that we (especially Donna) are anything but old. Donna still plays hide and seek with the kids. I love listening to their gleeful screams as they burst into each room of the house trying to locate her. She loves to draw out the game until they are nearly trembling with a mix of excitement and fear before she leaps out and scares the heck out of them. This game is another frequent form of entertainment in the Graffam home.

So, I'll hold up my other half as my anti-dote for being a pre-old lady. I'm confident she's going to make sure I don't grow old before my time. And I can't wait to watch Skye grow up and more readily realize that age is not a number, it's a state of mind. Because one day, I hope to tease her about being a "pre-old lady."

"Okay, Cross!"

Cross, Dos!

My favorite crossing guard and dear friend leaves her post tomorrow. It's a hard transition for this family because we've known her since Hunter was in kindergarten and Skye was in a stroller! It's been so comforting to watch them cross under Dos' loving and watchful eye. I had hoped she'd stay on post until Skye finished elementary school, but as with many things, life changes and I must let go of my selfish inclinations and let her go.

Her cheerful disposition and talent for nurturing those in her charge benefited not only the children who have grown up with her but also their parents. Her trademark phrase, "Okay, cross!" has been part of the soundtrack in my children's lives and countless others. They know, as do all the grownups, not to move a toe off the sidewalk until those magic words are spoken. We step into the crosswalk with the confidence that Dos will keep us safe. And now, she gets to cross into another chapter of her life.

So, although I'm reluctant to turn the page, I'll do it to celebrate the next phase of my friend's journey. And I pray that she crosses joyfully and safely into this next chapter, just as she's so wonderfully ensured our safety for so many years.

But, it begs the question; How will I adjust to not having my morning and afternoon chats with a woman who's become a dear friend and harbinger of safety for our children and the larger Bergenfield community?  As a lesbian mom, Dos and I have had some heart-to-hearts about the challenges L-Moms face. We've also shared a lot of laughs at the absurdities Donna and I have encountered. Fortunately, our community has warmly embraced our family. Dos has been a shining example of the love and respect we've been blessed with since our arrival in town more than nine years ago. She has watched our children grow over the last eight of those nine years and in that time, our love for her has grown exponentially.

The changing of the guard happens tomorrow. I know change is inevitable, but the impact that Dos has had on us makes this change particularly difficult. What brings some comfort is knowing she's only a Facebook message away.

Cheers, Dos!

So, on behalf of all the Jefferson School moms in our crew, "Here's to you Dos, and all the other exciting crossings you're about to make! We love you."

"I told them you were lesbians and tell corny gay jokes."

Last night, we attended Hunter's Middle School Open House and met all of his 7th Grade teachers. Hunter reminded me about this event the day before, and I asked him if he thought it was important for us to attend. He immediately segued into salesman mode and emphasized how much his teachers were looking forward to meeting us and we absolutely had to attend.

When I asked him why they were so interested in meeting us, he explained that he had been talking about us a lot. Cautiously, I asked him what he had been telling them. "Oh, that you're lesbians and that you tell funny, but corny, gay jokes."

I gulped and silently counted to ten before I responded. "Hunter, why did you share that?" He answered, "Because you're cool, and you do tell corny gay jokes."

Two of the coolest people you'll ever know

Inwardly, I groaned and reminded myself to ask Donna what kind of jokes she's been telling, because I don't recall any of recent memory. Then, I found myself struggling with the internal dilemma of walking into the school and introducing myself to his teachers with the dubious distinction of being "Outted"  already. Generally speaking, I'm comfortable with people knowing I'm gay, but I sometimes have a hard time with Hunter's sensational promotion of his parents. He's a typical 12-year old in his flair for exaggeration. What's atypical (from my personal experience) is his complete lack of inhibition about having same-sex parents.

I'm quickly learning that I better learn to get over it. And I'm also finding myself more introspective about why I have an issue with his pride. I think my issues stem from wanting to protect him from people's ignorance and negative responses to his openness. However, from what he's shared, he's not encountered any negativity in the times he's shared details about his unique family.

I must also sheepishly admit that I struggle with my own internal homophobia. If I'm honest with myself, I prefer the term "gay" over that of "lesbian." Academically I can claim that's because of  the misogynistic culture I have lived in where anything feminist in nature was automatically scrutinized for a lack of femininity. A lot of people still believe a woman has her place, and if it's not next to a man, then there's something wrong with her. Emotionally, I'm afraid of being seen as less worthy and less important if I lead with the lesbian label. I don't want to be known as the lesbian mom, I just want to be known as Hunter's and Skye's mom.

Plus,the term gay also means happy. And I really am happy that I can live authentically and don't have to spend time in a closet any longer. I'm getting more comfortable in my own skin. I just have to get over labels and not buy into the cultural stereotypes.

Friends help with that journey of acceptance. When we met Hunter's Language Arts teacher, we were with another mom whose daughter has been a  friend of Hunter's since kindergarten. As we introduced ourselves to his teacher, she lit up and said, "He loves you guys SO much and talks about you all the time!" Our friend added, "These are two of the coolest people you'll ever know." How sweet is that? I guess I really do need to get over the lesbian label when we get endorsements like that.

"Because your wife likes it that way."

My family decided to have a post-PRIDE NYC dinner at our new favorite restaurant, Bahama Breeze. While there, my wife asked me to remove my hat and I reluctantly did, exposing what had to be the worst hat-head 'do there. I complained about the way I must look, and Donna told me, "You look like David Cassidy, and I like it that way." I ruefully smiled and started looking at the menu.

Skye said, "Yeah, Mama. If anyone gives you a hard time, just say, 'My wife likes it this way.'"

Skye reminds me how to be loud and proud.

Of course, that response got a fist pump from Donna and a laugh from me. Skye is fearless and she also could care less about what other people think. Sometimes, that can be a challenge, where behavior is concerned. However, I've always admired her sense of style and individuality. For Skye, an outfit works if she feels right in it. It doesn't matter if she's blending winter fabrics with summer flip flops, or patterns that don't complement each other; what matters is that if it suits Skye's artistic flair, then it works. And she does make it work.

I've decided the lesson in that moment was that I have to stop worrying about what the world thinks and make peace with my own corner of the universe. And what a remarkable corner I enjoy. I couldn't help but muse over the irony of that conversation and the fact that we had just enjoyed celebrating our family in the midst of the biggest Gay Pride event in the world, NYC's Pride Parade. For a moment every year, we enjoy how far we have come and celebrate the courage and bravery of millions of LGBT people who have worked tirelessly on our behalf. Our official civil rights movement started with Stonewall in 1969, which was blocks away from where I stood with Skye earlier in the day, waiting to see Donna and Hunter charge past us as part of the NYC Sirens Motorcycle club. That group always leads the parade, and this is the second year Donna has ridden with them, with Hunter proudly sporting a rainbow hairstyle.

The Pride Event this year ended a remarkable week during which DOMA was deemed unconstitutional, allowing LGBT citizens of some states the same constitutional rights that our heterosexual brothers and sisters enjoy. Now, if only Governor Christie would get with the program and allow us to marry, Donna and I would celebrate with a legal marriage. Right now, we have a pseudo-marriage by heterosexual standards are continue to be denied thousands of rights that others take for granted.

And on the day we can finally marry and have it recognized in our home state, I'll wear my hair like David Cassidy, because my wife likes it that way.

"I don't have a Dad."

Father's Day brings up some interesting conversations in our home. Hunter shared a conversation he had with some friends as they were preparing cards in school for their fathers. Hunter said, "I don't have a Dad." The response from one of his friends was, "Oh my God, is he dead?" Hunter just replied, "No, my parents are lesbians." Inwardly, I groaned at his response, because I still have residual homophobia of my own, and because I am always on alert for my children's well-being. When we asked how that statement went down, he shrugged and said, "It wasn't a big deal, mom."

Hunter  is proud of his family

What a remarkable shift in thinking. I remember at his age, I was petrified of the feelings I had for other girls and knew that I needed to keep it a secret. There were gay jokes strewn around in middle school along with all of the other inappropriate jokes we throw around to test our growing independence and our emerging personalities. Those jokes did nothing but reinforce the closet in which I kept my true feelings. I took on the identity of a scholar and bookworm and "good girl." No one would ever find out the truth.

Yet, here is Hunter, loud and proud. He's a fantastic ally to the LGBT community and so confident about who he is and who his family is. Now, I know that Hunter sometimes wonders what having a Dad would be like. But, I know for sure that Hunter is NOT suffering from a lack of confidence or low self-esteem. We've been blessed with strong men in our lives who have demonstrated beautifully what it means to be a man. Hunter knows it's more about character and being true to who he is than it is about brute strength or stoic silence.

I love watching him grow and move in the world. As I watch him seek out his own style, I have to chuckle. His hairstyles have morphed since he started school so many years ago, his attention to fashion has moved from ambivalence to a heightened sense of style that can only be satisfied with Abercrombie and Fitch or Aeropostale, and his taste in music has (thankfully) moved from the Wiggles to Mac Miller. I'm sure he'll change even more as time passes.The realization that we only have him for a few more years before he strikes out for college is more acute with each passing day. He's going to be 12 in September. My angel who kept me out of Manhattan on 9-11 is on the cusp of becoming a teenager!

To all of those dads out there who show the best of what fatherhood represents, I thank you. I hope you had a great Father's Day and realize that those people in your life who are closest to you, celebrate your role as dad every day, and that appreciation is merely amplified on the second Sunday in June. I wonder where I'll be several years from now.  . .will I be blessed to watch my son embrace fatherhood? He claims he wants no part of it, but as we all know, things and opinions change as we march into adulthood and find our life partners. And I know, he'd be a fantastic dad.

"You're kinda like a teacher, because you teach people respect."

Yesterday was a big day in the Graffam home. I turned 42, Skye lost her first tooth, and as we were driving to my favorite restaurant for a birthday celebration, she gave me one of the nice compliments I've ever received.

She asked, "Mama, are teachers mothers?"

I said, "Some of them are."

She said, "You're kinda like a teacher, because you teach people respect."

I smiled and thanked her for such a nice compliment.

I love teachers. I think they are unsung hero(ine)s and undervalued in our current culture. Having volunteered in the classroom quite often, experiencing the level of energy and creativity and focus that they must use every day is daunting. I come home exhausted after one day and have a renewed appreciation for what good teachers feel every day. They are often vilified in the press for wanting to secure a comfortable future for themselves and some degree of job security. If we really think about the impact a good teacher has on our children and by default, our future, I think the bartering between teachers unions and the local governments would be a lot easier.

Skye sees me as a teacher of respect.

When volunteer in the schools, I talk about respect. I've shared that message with K-5 students for the past two years and I actually started a business with a dear friend that is founded on treating each other with respect. It's an anti-bullying business named The Situation Box. We go into fifth grade classes several times each year to talk about bullying and how to deal with and prevent it. The bottom line is, we are teaching respect. Sadly, I think that respect is becoming increasingly rare these days. Our culture promotes bullying in several forms. It's cool to put each other down based on a number of subjective criteria. Whether it be size, race, economic status, gender, orientation, intellect, or athleticism, we find ways to exploit each other. And, we forget that people have varying tolerance for being teased. So, I'm very proud that Skye has noticed what I do in my "spare" time and considers me a teacher.

I also feel blessed to see it rubbing off on my children. Donna and I love watching our children show kindness and consideration to their friends and family. We never tire of hearing from our friends how kind and thoughtful Hunter is and Skye has a very unique way of complimenting people on either how they look or how they are behaving. I know how easy it is to forget at times to treat one another with kindness. We are moving so quickly from one obligation to the next, that we forget basic manners and consideration. Yesterday, one of my friends posted on my facebook page, "...To one of the strongest most compassionate loving women I am blessed to know!!" I was so touched to hear that. I hope I continue to earn that reputation.

You are not alone.

Two weekends ago, I was surrounded by family and friends in my home state of Maine. My mother turned 60 years old this year and I was fortunate enough to help host a surprise party for her. I drove up with Skye on Friday, April 5th, and we spent nearly a solid week enjoying laughter and good-natured mischief as we dodged my mother's regular routines to stay undercover until Sunday, the day of her party. We shared her special day with nearly 50 people, all of whom got to share the connection they had to her. My mother is loved and it was so touching to see how much.

At this stage in my life, the reason for family gatherings of that scale are usually prefaced with the death of a loved one and the laughter is sprinkled in between grief-stricken tears as family and friends come to pay their last respects. So, it was refreshing to return home for a joyful reason and to have the person who was the center of attention present to enjoy it all. It was also refreshing to be completely myself, and still enjoy the love and acceptance of my family.

At one point as we were preparing to surprise my mother, those of us from out of town were hiding, in of all places, a closet. So of course, I couldn't pass up the chance to say, "This is the last time I'll be in the closet." It got a big laugh, and I felt loved for ALL of who I am, not just the "comfortable" parts.

Another highlight of my week home was the opportunity to meet a new friend, who was dating an old friend (relative to the time I've known her, not her actual age). The connection was very coincidental. The new friend met my best friend Sue earlier this year and they quickly grew close. This young woman recently came to terms with her sexuality and Sue shared my blog, which helped her along her journey. She decided that it was time to be authentic about who she was and took the step of joining an online dating service to meet someone. She did, and that someone happened to be a friend from my days of attending church at East Orrington Congregational Church.

As I sat around Sue's table enjoying conversation with them, it struck me how important it was to share that moment with all of you who are reading this now and may not feel the same kind of readiness to come out. I remember when I was growing up that I was scared to death to reveal my sexuality. That was nearly 25 years ago and I wish I had known then that I was not alone. When I was growing up in Orrington, I was convinced I was the only gay person in town. Looking back, that belief couldn't be farther from the truth. Over the past several years, more and more of us have come out and claimed our truth. There is such power and a strong sense of community in that shared decision to be true to ourselves.

Had it been more welcoming in my hometown to be gay, I probably would have started my journey a lot sooner. As it is, I'm blessed that I can share my journey with others now, and help other GLBT people find their truth, whether in small town America, or in India, Turkey, Singapore, China, England, Canada, Brazil, Germany, or the other countries in the world that have connected to Out in Suburbia. I hope the promise of a safe community of trusted friends (and hopefully, family), gives those people struggling with whether to come out because of concerns about personal safety and fear of family rejection some comfort that there is support out there.

You are not alone. So, please, take comfort in that fact and know that you are part of a community made up of special people who are artists, teachers, nurses, doctors, business professionals, members of our armed services, and countless other people you encounter everyday. We are everywhere, so there is no way you would ever be alone.

"I'm glad you married her."

 Skye's laughter filled the room on Sunday as Donna and I were talking to one another from separate rooms in our home. Donna was being her usual sarcastic self and I was slinging back comments to her and at one point called her a creep. This odd term of endearment is what set Skye off and caused her to say to me, "I'm glad you married her."

I can't even remember what caused me to call Donna a creep, but my response to Skye was, "Oddly enough, Honey, I'm glad I did too." If it's one thing that Donna brings to our family, it's laughter. She's one of the most witty, outrageous comics I've known. People who know here well question whether she missed her calling because she's such a joker.

Donna wanted to know why Skye was happy I married her and Skye's reply to that question was, "Because you're funny, you're hysterical, and you're hilarious." Now, for you vocab-lovers out there, the three reasons she listed may seem redundant. But, to Skye, there are distinct nuances. I will pare it down and translate it to mean, Donna is hysterically funny. She has us all laughing to the point of tears at times and that is where the hysterics come into play.

Donna keeps all of us laughing

Donna loves to have fun. And she loves to hear her loved one's laugh. It's music to her ears. So, you'll hear a lot of it here in the Graffam home. Donna has a way of finding the idiosyncrasies in her loved ones and using them to her comical advantage. For example, she tells me and anyone in earshot that when I drink a glass a water, I drink like an elk. Now, Skye takes great pleasure in telling me repeatedly, that I'm like an elk. Not exactly a parallel I like being drawn, but when you live with an animal expert (Donna manages the zoo keeping staff at the Queens Zoo), one that I can't seem to avoid.

Donna also likes to use physical humor to get a laugh. So, her exaggerated parody of a carnival dancer  sends anyone into laughter. Especially when it's done as she's loading or unloading the dishwasher.

So, like Skye, I am also glad I married Donna. She's kept the past nearly 13 years of marriage tethered in fun and humor and I've found it's a critical ingredient to our success. I'm so glad I get to continue the journey and look forward to the next comedy act. With Donna, you never know what you're going to get.

"You know what's cool? Hugging your mom."

Okay, you grizzled parents, I'm anticipating your eye rolls as I type, but this is what my 11-year old told me this morning, just as he came in for a hug, before he left the house for school. "You know what's cool? Hugging your Mom." He's such a great kid and I'm so proud of the young man he is becoming.

Don't get me wrong, Hunter's very typical in many ways; focused on fashion, showing an interest in the opposite sex, obsessed with his X-Box 360, and finding humor in the likes of "The Simpsons" and "The Regular Show," but his connection with his feelings and his innate knowledge of when I need a hug is one of the many ways that make him so incredibly special and why I often say I want to be like my son when I grow up.

I hope he never stops those moments of affection. He still walks arm and arm with me in parking lots and in the grocery store. He still tells me he loves me. And he still tries to hold Donna hostage at bedtime with promises of back rubs to avoid going to sleep alone (he's often successful). I hope he can maintain the confidence it takes to show affection and take the grief it may bring from his peers. He's one of the most passionate LGBT allies I've been blessed to know and doubly-blessed to call my son.

Hunter still believes it's cool to hug his parents

He is already planning how he'll dress for the NYC Pride Parade in June. Last year, he rode with Donna in the parade and caused quite a stir. He's so proud of his family and despite admitting he wished he had a dad, he's never wished me away. Instead, he celebrated when we were on the cover of Gay Parent Magazine more than a year ago, exclaiming, "I'm famous!" And he was so excited when MTV was planning a reality show about gay parents and contacted us about possibly being part of it. They ultimately canned the idea and Hunter was heartbroken because he wanted the chance to show the world how cool we are.

Hunter leads with his heart and demonstrates in a very profound way what caring and compassion is about by checking on the well-being of his classmates and dear family friends without our even knowing. We find out about it from his guidance counselor and the dear family friend sometimes weeks and months after the fact.

I can only pray that the world is as kind to Hunter as he is to the world. If it follows his lead, his future will be so bright, we'll all need shades.

"I've turned my life around."

I'm not sure how a six and a half-year old decides it's time to turn her life around. What I do know is that I'm glad she did.

Skye has always been our difficult child. There is no doubt that she's brilliant and has the face of an angel, but she battles a temper that mirrors the one that inspired Shakespeare to write the Taming of the Shrew. I often joke (halfheartedly) that if Skye had been our first, she would have been our only. The radical mood swings and erratic behavior she's struggled with for years recently caused us to march straight into a therapist's office because we had run out of tools in our parenting bag of tricks.

Although it helped give us a more rigorous framework to work in, that too has run its course. The therapist suggested pulling in the school's Child Study Team to help intervene and reinforce what we were doing at home. So, we pulled in her teacher, the guidance counselor and school psychologist. As Hillary Clinton wrote years ago, it truly does takes a village and we have rallied the troops to help us help our daughter. The past two weeks have been remarkable. Don't get me wrong; there have been typical confrontations such as refereeing disputes with her older brother and explaining why she can't have chocolate for breakfast. But, the atypical behavior that drove us to rally the troops hasn't been here.

Skye has turned her life around and she just glows

On Sunday, Donna and I were sitting at the dinner table and told Skye how nice it's been lately because she's behaved so nicely. She said, "I know. I've turned my life around." It was stunning to hear her say that with such conviction. She's worked hard to learn how to get along without breaking so much glass and it's so nice to be around her. The family is settling into a new peace. I finally feel like we can exhale and stop waiting for the other shoe to drop.

Tonight, I heard Hunter tell her that he loved her. Twice. Her response, "I love you too, Hunter." It's music to a mother's ears to hear that. It gives me tremendous comfort to see the healing that has occurred in this family. I'm no longer shedding tears of frustration. Instead, I'm shedding tears of joy that I hope continue to help cultivate this new found family dynamic.

I'm not naive enough to think there won't be further bumps in the road, but I'm much more confident that Skye has the tools to weather those storms without lashing out and alienating herself from those who love her. And, I'm so grateful to the army that we have around us helping us find those tools. She hasn't just turned her life around, she's turned all of our lives around.

Our Love Story

Today, when I checked my personal email, I enjoyed hearing from a fellow IBMer in India who asked me how Donna's and my love story began. It was wonderful to hear him recount and summarize so many of my entries. It was heartwarming to know I have such an avid follower of Out in Suburbia, yet the question about how Donna and I started had not yet been addressed. I guess that's because the focus of this blog is our parenting adventures.

It's interesting how parenthood can feel like the beginning and end of one's existence. The fact that we actually started our journey together before there was a Hunter and Skye is a nice thing to revisit. I actually feel like I'm watching a favorite movie when I recall how our love story unfolded. So, I'm going flip my story back approximately 15 years ago, when I met my lovely wife.

At the time, I was living in Central New York in the Syracuse area. Donna was living in Queens, NY. Donna and I started hanging out as friends. It feels like a Lifetime TV movie special with a lesbian twist when I think about it now. She was dating my neighbor and I was in a committed relationship with someone else. We would find ourselves hanging out and venting about life and love over a few beers and I quickly came to consider her one of my best friends. There was absolutely nothing else going on. Or so I naively thought.

Happy Valentine's Day to my love

During one visit, something changed. I can't even remember how it started, but she admitted an attraction to me and suddenly I had a V-8 moment of sorts; one of those epiphanies similar to those moments when suddenly you remember what you were looking for when you walk into a room with a purpose, only to forget why you were there to begin with. Once she was brave enough to admit her attraction, I realized why I would get so excited when I knew she was coming for a visit. I realized why it was so important to time alone with her, so we could enjoy each others company without our significant others. I had fallen for her.
 
As I  realized how deep my feeling for her were, I was caught up in the infatuation that comes with most new love. I still remember our first kiss. We were outside of a local club in Syracuse and I was trying to parallel park. I was so nervous, I mounted the curb. Then, the kiss happened and our romance began. Initially, it was difficult, because neither of us were proud about the pain we caused our partners when we decided we wanted to be together.

Both of us struggled with the guilt of hurting our respective significant others when we started our relationship. Most often when relationships start the way ours did, they don't last long. We both knew that. It scared me to death that I may lose her, because she meant so much to me. With Donna, it was different than with other relationships I had been in. She already knew all my quirks because we had started off as friends, so there was no pretense. That was a double-edged sword. My usual defense mechanisms wouldn't work with her because she knew me so well. I had never been loved so fiercely. And so I decided I was going to be selfish and keep what we had sacred.

We came together as a couple when I was 29 years old. Donna was older and her biological clock had begun ticking, so we didn't spend a lot of time together alone before we leaped into parenthood. We had our commitment ceremony in May, 2000 and by September of 2001, we were parents to a beautiful baby boy. Today, nearly 13 years later, we still wait for same sex marriage to come to New Jersey. We had our civil union in December of 2008, but we're still waiting for true marriage equality.

As we wait, I look over at my wife and notice that her hair, like mine,  has more gray in it; her eyes, like mine, have deeper laugh lines; and fatigue sometimes feels like a constant companion. However, our love story is still being written. I love her more today than I did all those years ago. Marriage equality won't change that, but it will at least reflect the commitment we made so long ago. I don't want equal rights as some kind of political stand. That's rarely why anyone gets married. I want equal rights because I want the protection that equality grants us.

As those who would oppose us that right continue to point to the destruction of family values, I only need to show them two very happy children and a community that respects and embraces us living authentically as the couple and the family we are. If anything, we're representing family values perhaps more so than some in traditional marriages. We're here not merely because of legal obligations, but because the love we have for each other transcends legality and reflects what we know God intends. So with that, I wish you all a very happy Valentine's Day. I know I'll enjoy mine with a heart full of gratitude and blessings.

"I'm baby sick and I feel like I want to cry. . ."

Last night, I was tucking Skye into bed when she asked me to sing her a lullaby I used to sing to her when she was a baby. She explained in a six-year old's semantics that she was "baby sick" and felt like she wanted to cry because she missed being a baby. That nearly brought tears to my own eyes and rendered any singing nearly impossible because of the lump in my throat. Her simple, meaningful way of explaining how she felt, along with her prescribed cure of singing to her was profound and struck something visceral in my being.

When she was a baby, I sang her a medley of songs nearly every night until she was probably four years old. My versions of "Hush Little Baby," "Lullaby and Goodnight," "Animal Crackers in my Soup," "Thy Word," and "Angels" would fill her room with soothing sounds, sung to the rhythm of her rocker. Each note I sung brought heavier eyelids and eventually, I would hear the deep, rhythmic cadence of her breathing as she slipped into sleep. It was such a special time for both of us. I would memorize the shape of her face, the length of her body in relation to my own, and how she fit perfectly like a second skin in my arms. I loved the smell of her hair and skin, which would perfume the room with the scent of Johnson's & Johnson's shampoo and lavender lotions. 

Skye will always be my baby girl (shown here the day of her Christening, October 2006)

That time seems like so long ago and I don't know when the songs became prayers instead. A few "old school" parents solemnly warned me about rocking her to sleep every night, saying how important it was for her to "self-soothe." I decided, perhaps selfishly, that I needed those quiet moments with her more than I needed to follow someone else's idea of what good parenting was. And now as I see her channeling Katy Perry and Alicia Keys, I'm glad I made that choice. Today, I listen to her aspiring to be a pop star, dentist, veterinarian, pediatrician, and car wash attendant all within in the same week and her zeal for life and passion for living it is infectious. And I know I'll always have those precious memories to turn to when she's off doing her own thing.

I love how she put into simple words how she was feeling last night. Sometimes, I don't realize I'm "baby sick" until I've muddled through a week of a bad moods and struggled to maintain my composure as an employee and a wife and a mother. My realization that I'm yearning for my mother's voice and soothing touch is buried under days that are peppered with conference calls, play dates, martial arts classes, and making school lunches. Yet here Skye was, completely in tune with her feelings. I'm sure it's because she's so close to that age of complete dependence and attachment and my songs still resonate in her heart. And I'm so glad they do.

As she continues to grow up and her single-digit birthdays turn into double-digit milestones, I pray that she's always in touch with her feelings and finds healthy ways of soothing the times she's "baby sick." And while I still have her at home, I'll comfort her on those baby-sick days with the intimate soundtrack born from our first moments of mother-daughter bonding.