Old People! Hooray!

Well, I missed yesterday. Alas. I did, and I think this counts, considering posting on what I'm about to post on, but there were major distractions in trying to finish my darling's xmas etc. present before she got back from an extended stay with her parents in North Carolina. And then there was the distraction of her being home.

Yesterday something pretty amazing happened in my life. My mother, actually, did something amazing.

In the spirit of "It takes a village" my brother and I were raised by a bevy of folks outside my parents. Among them are Ethel and Lorraine. And they are as old and interesting as their names make them sound. They were our day care, our baby sitters, our nannies. It's been years, of course, since they carted us to piano lessons, but I see them when I'm home. I stop by as you would with any grandparent. And until yesterday I hadn't managed to come out to either of them. There are some excuses. I live on the other side of the country. They're old. And then there were those sideways whispers from intermediaries that "They won't understand." An 83-year-old, old-fashioned, mid-western farm girl is not going to get on board with your crazy lesbo thing, I mean, she calls "lunch," "dinner" for pete's sake!

But them, my mama wanted to do something as yet unprecedented in our family. She wanted to give my darling a cameo in the annual february letter. (This is like a holiday letter for procrastinators). And of course, no one displays the grainy inkjet photos and winter cheer than Ethel and Lorraine. Just like that, it was time. Mom asked how I wanted to tell them, and I could feel that old fear of rejection lump bubble up out of my stomach. And that's when the first bit of amazing-ness happened. My mama stepped in just like you imagine a parent can and took the burden right off my shoulders. She suggested that she do it for me.

Really, it couldn't have been any other way. I'm not about to fly to Minnesota in the next couple of weeks just to go, "poof, I'm gay!" and the advent of hearing aids hasn't actually made it possible to have a conversation that consists of more than "Yes, we're coming by in ten minutes," with them. But I thought I might have to ask her to do it, and then coach her. It turns out that she's one of those cool moms who's gotten all hip to your world.

I'm glad that I trusted her because yesterday brought news of the go around with Lorraine. And you know, just like pretty much every coming-out I've been through, I should have trusted her. She wiped my snot as a kid and went to my soccer games and drilled good manners into me. Who knows you better than the people who know about the naughty things you did as a child? My 83-year old, old fashioned, mid-western farm girl of a nanny is a-ok with me being gay. And was, as reported by my mother, was quite dismissive of my worry that she'd be anything but. Mom showed her a picture of me with my darling, whom Lorraine pronounced to be "pretty." Hey, it's 2007, she might be old but it turns out that she already knows some kid-raising lesbian moms. Anyway, lesson learned.