Happy Birthday Dad
June 17th is my dad's birthday. He and I have always been close, but we are probably more so now than we have ever been. He's the type of guy you can't help but like. He's the most honest person I have ever known, and he's committed to finishing the things he starts, he's genuinely happy, and he possesses a peace that you can just tell originates deep within, and it's one that not even he can verbalize. His strength is quiet, but mighty.
There was no real discussion of homosexuality while I was growing up, that I can remember anyway. I remember feeling like it was a condemnable offense as I silently pondered it in high school, but I think that feeling came from church, or the news, or from other kids at school and not necessarily my parents. But they are conservative by nature and generally didn't embrace ideas outside the rural Nebraska norm--at least while I was growing up--and homosexuality would have definitely been outside the norm. I remember having one conversation with both my parents about a lesbian that I had become good friends with while in college, and it turned out to be an awkward, hesitant exhange of words. Attempting to point out that homosexuality is a real, valid orientation that does nothing to change the character of a person, I finally said, "What if I turned out to be gay?" After a brief, reflective silence my dad said, "We would just fear that your life would be harder." And that was the end of that.
I came out to my dad in 1998. Actually, my mom did it for me. My mom and I had the big coming out conversation on the phone because I lived in Austin, Texas at the time and she and my dad were in Nebraska, and then she took the news to my dad. I was glad she was willing to do that, because I knew the connection she shared with him would make the news more bearable and carry with it at least some degree of built-in understanding. And it did. My dad was disheartened by the news--or perhaps I should say by the confirmation of something that he likely suspected but had pushed to the back of his mind--but he never threatened to disown me and he never withheld love from me. He had to grieve the loss of a few dreams and let go of any ideas that had included my potential husband, but he willingly went through this process and came through it realizing that nothing much about my American dream had to change. And nothing much has.
I introduced my parents to Angela in Austin at Christmas in 1998, after we had been dating for about four months. They instantly liked her. She's much like my dad, in that she's honest, hard-working, loyal, happy, and at peace. I guess it's true what they say about daughters being attracted to a mate that possesses their fathers' qualities. Mine just came in an unexpected package.
I took Angela to visit my parents at their home in Nebraska for the first time during the summer of 1999, and that turned out to be the first time Angela and my dad really connected. It was on the golf course. Angela hadn't played much at that point but she wanted to learn, and my dad always seemed to be up for eighteen holes and just needed an excuse to play, so it was the perfect match. My dad gave her some pointers on her swing, helped her track down lost balls in the adjacent cornfield (only in Nebraska), and cheered her on after each great shot. There was no gay or straight that day; just family. And it was after that day that I became certain my dad would continue to act selflessly in learning about what it means for a loved one to be gay, and that he would embrace my homosexuality and my homosexual relationship increasingly throughout my life.
Angela and my dad have become great friends. They're usually the ones in charge of the grill anytime the family gets together for a barbecue, and they have a blast marinating and applying dry rub together. They both like to fix things too, and this has led my dad to rejoice in the idea that now he has someone to leave his precious many tools to. The drills and jigsaws would be lost on my sister and me, but Angela will be able to help them live out their assigned destiny.
Angela and I had a holy union on October 18, 2002 and we had a reception at our home the next day. It was a small affair and my parents couldn't make the trip, but they called during the reception to congratulate us both and to officially welcome Angela to the family. That meant the world to both of us. My parents began this journey without much of an understanding of homosexuality, but after putting a face on it and getting to know it despite any fears or reservations they may have had, they have come to the realization that love is love, and it is sweet and honorable no matter what form it takes on. Indeed.
I've always known that my dad loves me and he has told me so on many different ocassions, but it seems to me that he has only recently become truly free with the phrase. I can't help but wonder if that's a product of coming to better understand love as an expression of truth, after having become acquainted with love in a form that does not possess characteristics that our culture at large finds redemptive or worthy, and yet continues to thrive. Perhaps that resonates and helps create an environment in which love is more free to travel back and forth between my dad and me. Or perhaps I have become so much more free in my ability to give and receive love after coming to terms with the truth about myself and after reconciling faith and sexuality, that love finally has an avenue through which to more fully reach me. Regardless, love is circulating. And that's the point.
Happy Birthday Dad. I love you.
There was no real discussion of homosexuality while I was growing up, that I can remember anyway. I remember feeling like it was a condemnable offense as I silently pondered it in high school, but I think that feeling came from church, or the news, or from other kids at school and not necessarily my parents. But they are conservative by nature and generally didn't embrace ideas outside the rural Nebraska norm--at least while I was growing up--and homosexuality would have definitely been outside the norm. I remember having one conversation with both my parents about a lesbian that I had become good friends with while in college, and it turned out to be an awkward, hesitant exhange of words. Attempting to point out that homosexuality is a real, valid orientation that does nothing to change the character of a person, I finally said, "What if I turned out to be gay?" After a brief, reflective silence my dad said, "We would just fear that your life would be harder." And that was the end of that.
I came out to my dad in 1998. Actually, my mom did it for me. My mom and I had the big coming out conversation on the phone because I lived in Austin, Texas at the time and she and my dad were in Nebraska, and then she took the news to my dad. I was glad she was willing to do that, because I knew the connection she shared with him would make the news more bearable and carry with it at least some degree of built-in understanding. And it did. My dad was disheartened by the news--or perhaps I should say by the confirmation of something that he likely suspected but had pushed to the back of his mind--but he never threatened to disown me and he never withheld love from me. He had to grieve the loss of a few dreams and let go of any ideas that had included my potential husband, but he willingly went through this process and came through it realizing that nothing much about my American dream had to change. And nothing much has.
I introduced my parents to Angela in Austin at Christmas in 1998, after we had been dating for about four months. They instantly liked her. She's much like my dad, in that she's honest, hard-working, loyal, happy, and at peace. I guess it's true what they say about daughters being attracted to a mate that possesses their fathers' qualities. Mine just came in an unexpected package.
I took Angela to visit my parents at their home in Nebraska for the first time during the summer of 1999, and that turned out to be the first time Angela and my dad really connected. It was on the golf course. Angela hadn't played much at that point but she wanted to learn, and my dad always seemed to be up for eighteen holes and just needed an excuse to play, so it was the perfect match. My dad gave her some pointers on her swing, helped her track down lost balls in the adjacent cornfield (only in Nebraska), and cheered her on after each great shot. There was no gay or straight that day; just family. And it was after that day that I became certain my dad would continue to act selflessly in learning about what it means for a loved one to be gay, and that he would embrace my homosexuality and my homosexual relationship increasingly throughout my life.
Angela and my dad have become great friends. They're usually the ones in charge of the grill anytime the family gets together for a barbecue, and they have a blast marinating and applying dry rub together. They both like to fix things too, and this has led my dad to rejoice in the idea that now he has someone to leave his precious many tools to. The drills and jigsaws would be lost on my sister and me, but Angela will be able to help them live out their assigned destiny.
Angela and I had a holy union on October 18, 2002 and we had a reception at our home the next day. It was a small affair and my parents couldn't make the trip, but they called during the reception to congratulate us both and to officially welcome Angela to the family. That meant the world to both of us. My parents began this journey without much of an understanding of homosexuality, but after putting a face on it and getting to know it despite any fears or reservations they may have had, they have come to the realization that love is love, and it is sweet and honorable no matter what form it takes on. Indeed.
I've always known that my dad loves me and he has told me so on many different ocassions, but it seems to me that he has only recently become truly free with the phrase. I can't help but wonder if that's a product of coming to better understand love as an expression of truth, after having become acquainted with love in a form that does not possess characteristics that our culture at large finds redemptive or worthy, and yet continues to thrive. Perhaps that resonates and helps create an environment in which love is more free to travel back and forth between my dad and me. Or perhaps I have become so much more free in my ability to give and receive love after coming to terms with the truth about myself and after reconciling faith and sexuality, that love finally has an avenue through which to more fully reach me. Regardless, love is circulating. And that's the point.
Happy Birthday Dad. I love you.
posted by Jen Austin at 7:19 AM
1 Comments:
It's great that you have this kind of relationship with your father. Sounds like you've found a great partner in Angela. It's inspiring to read about how your family has embraced her and how much love is "circulating". Nice how that works out. :)
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