"The past is history, the future is a mystery and the present is a gift." - Valerie Malone, Beverly Hills 90210.

Monday, June 21, 2010

The Aunt

The Aunt

I have a pretty big family.  At a recent family reunion put together by one of my cousins, just my first cousins and their spouses numbered around 50.  It was madness, including ball caps, a PowerPoint slide show and crazy volumes of food and wine, but that is another story.  Amongst this large family is my aunt, my mother's older sister.

Now, my aunt is not what you would necessarily call forward in her thinking in all cases.  She believes that wives should tend to their husbands as their primary function, that nice young ladies stay chaste until marriage and that no one should run around in tight or skimpy clothing.  Organized to a fault, her life is clean and precise.  Even her home looks like a spread from a magazine, albeit a magazine from the 50's.  She is always offering "advice" in her own way, telling whoever she is talking to what they should do about this or that.  She even once sent me a decorating book she had kept since the 50's with the reasoning that the rules of decoration just don't change.  Really, the book was in black and white so I am not sure how you were supposed to learn to match your carpet and drapes, but anyway.  For a fairly long period I referred to her as my Victoria aunt, due to her conservative ideas.

Now, due to my aunt's propensity for giving out unsolicited advice, she often ends up at odds with various members of the family.  At one point while I was in college I was the only person who would take her calls.  She gave me the same advice as everyone else, I would just verbally nod my head and then do whatever I wanted anyway.  I figured she lived in another state, how would she know?  Because of this, we developed a pattern of talking every weekend.  I usually call her on my way to the gym or if I am tied up with an event in the morning I will call her in the evening after she gets home from Saturday evening mass.  If I don't call I can expect her to call me on Sunday morning.  

Now, my aunt is getting on in years and about a year or two ago or so I decided it was time I paid her a visit.  She lives a couple of hours away from me by plane and there was a long weekend so I went to see her and the town that I had lived in as a child for a period.  For a while I had been worried that she was not doing well or that my uncle was not doing well.  I was glad I made the trip because while they were not doing as poorly as I had feared, they were not in the best shape and at least I was able to spend some time with them while they were still in relatively good health.  

I even was able to go to church on Saturday with my aunt.  Now, the church my aunt and uncle go to is Catholic.  I think the three of us are the last practicing Catholics in the family, the rest of the bunch only go for weddings or baptisims.  My aunt and uncle helped found this church and are very active.  My uncle was in charge of setting up the altar that night and my aunt volunteered at the church office.  That particular Saturday had no special meaning in the liturgucal calendar, but nonetheless the church passed a yellow rose up to the altar in memory of the aborted babies.  I asked and they do that every week.  This was not one of those edgy Catholic churches pushing the envelope.  This was strict adherence to Rome and "traditional" values. 

As the weekend drew to a close, I thought about how to be more open with my aunt.  At this point we had a great relationship, talking every week, gossiping about the family.  She was a great sounding board when I was looking at changing jobs.  She would fill me in on arcane matters of protocol and on obscure dead relatives.  I genuinly enjoyed talking to her and didn't want to lose that, but by that same token I didn't want to keep dodging the girlfriend question.  So, just as we were about to leave for the airport, I sat down in her kitchen.  At the same table I had eaten many a meal when I was a child and asked her if she had noticed the ring I was wearing (gold band, ring ringer, left hand).  She said she did and asked me what it meant.  I told her I was in a relationship and I told her his name.  I then told her that I was gay.  

Well, I was about to the point of hyperventalating, but she gave me a big hug and told me that I should not have been worried to tell her.  I said well the Church doesn't really accept gay people (with images of that yellow rose in my head).  She said the Church doesn't know everything.  She then proceeded to tell me about a friend of hers with a gay son.  The friend had confided in my aunt years ago when she first learned about her son and told my aunt she could not accept him and would stop seeing him.  My aunt told her she should not do that and then proceeded to show her research supporting the idea that this is the way that God made us.  My aunt, although she doesn't have a degree because of an aversion to math, is a perennial student and has taken piles of child development and psychology courses.  She told me how she had convinced her friend to keep loving her son and told me how she would always love me.  At this point I am tearing up and my uncle walks into the kitchen with a perplexed look on his face.  I excuse myself to the bathroom and then we head out to the airport.

With that behind me I still wondered a bit how things would be with my aunt, but quickly found out.  At out next weekend chat she asked me to tell her how I had met my partner.  So I did.  She asked me if I was happy with him and I told her that we were having some challenges, which we were, and she offered to listen if needed because relationships are relationships and she had been married a long time so had figured out how to make it work.  Boy did i take her up on that offer.  As things got harder and my relationship ended I knew I could call her any time, any day and did.  She was unwaveringly supportive, non-judgemental and knew when just to listen when I needed that.  When I told my aunt that my mom, who I had come out to a couple of years prior to her, had offered to fix me up with a woman after my breakup, my aunt called my mom and scolded her for being so insensitive.  

I think getting through that breakup would have been much more difficult without my aunt to talk to and I consider myself blessed that she is a part of my life.  For that, she is one of my gay heroes.