Let me make you a bit more comfortable.

Focus
Originally uploaded by Nicholas Maleno

It has been an interesting couple of days as far as talking about Michael's death goes. Yesterday I was in a meeting at a school regarding a teenage client of mine. His attorney was present, and I have known her for many years. While we were waiting for one last person to arrive, I told her that I was planning on moving to San Diego. This came up because many people in my office have chosen to retire recently, and it is all the talk these days. When I mentioned that I too would be taking an early retirement, she looked shocked. She asked how this was possible. I explained that you could take a service retirement once you are 50 and have 20 years on the job. She then began to ask about my plans, which led her to ask if my daughter would be joining me in the move. I explained that yes, although she is 19, she still lives at home. I went on to say how all the kids are very excited about the move, and then talked about how each one reacted to my decision. She then said to me, "well, isn't your partner going with you," meaning I hadn't brought his name up. I suddenly felt like I had walked right into a wall.

She must have seen a startled reaction when I explained that he had died eight months ago. She was obviously shocked by the news, and felt quite embarrassed for not knowing this. She quickly apologized for not knowing, and for bringing this up. I quickly let her know that it was fine, that there was no harm in her not knowing this.

This afternoon I was loading up the car to put some boxes in my storage unit. My neighbor from across the street came over to say hello, and asked if I was making one of my regular trips to the Salvation Army to make a donation. I explained that I was planning on moving, and was busy packing up some of the house. She was also shocked by this news. She then said that she only recently learned that my husband had passed away. At the time she too had been diagnosed with cancer, and had undergone surgery, and then chemotherapy. She wanted to offer her sympathy. I found myself explaining about how it has been for myself and the kids, and why I have chosen to make this move.

This is a clear example of why our grieving process is not as simple as others would like to think. I find it somewhat similar to the coming out process. Being gay means that I will always be in the process of coming out to people. Because life brings new people, and new situations, to my life, I am always in the position to come out to others. Until the day arrives when people naturally ask, "are you gay or straight," then I will always be in a situation where I need to correct someone when they assume I have a wife. My kids have also had to come out each school year, as they always have a new teacher, or classmate, who may ask about their parents, or about their mother. They then always have that moment, when they need to explain that their father is gay, and that their other father died. This is not an easy process for them.

This is how it feels to now explain to people that my husband has died. Some, like the attorney, or my neighbor, know that I had a husband, and might naturally ask about him. Others may not know, and ask if I am married. In each case, I am then left with the decision to explain that yes, I was married, but that my husband passed away. Of course this is always met with discomfort, so I am then in the position of having to make the other person feel better about the fact that they may have brought up something painful.

You don't know how many times over the years that I have said the words, "oh, well, I'm gay, it's okay, I don't have a wife, I have a husband," or, "don't worry, you had no way of knowing that my husband had died." I am quite familiar with the process. I have lots of experience at this point in making the embarrassed, or shocked, person standing before me feel a bit less awkward, and a bit more at ease.

Here, let me help you be a little more comfortable with who, or what, I am.