by Rev. Stephen Parelli,
written Monday,
May 28, 2012,
Bronx, NY
(The three characters depicted in this writing are real and their stories are true; names have been changed, places are left unidentified, and some descriptions have been altered.)
Excerpt:
Burt
On a Wednesday morning while traveling out of the city, my husband and I received an unusual text from a gay friend: “My mother is dying right in front of my eyes.” Four hours later: “She’s gone.” It was sudden and totally unexpected. Burt is in his thirties. He has never come out to his parents or siblings, or virtually anyone . . . [For the full article, click here.]
Excerpt:
Craig
Several months back, a second gay man we personally know lost his father. The son, Craig, in his forty’s, was living in one country in Asia with his lover of four years when it became known that his father was dying in another country in Asia, his parents’ mother-land. With his lover at his side, he went to be with his mother and his dying father, and for many days nursed his father until he died. He introduced his lover as a very close friend who was with him for support and comfort. On the day of the burial, as the guests and family left the site of the internment, the son and lover had to separate. The family was to have a time of remembrance alone as a family. . .[For the full article, click here.]
Excerpt:
Antonio
The same week that Burt’s mother died, a gay friend, Antonio, from Latin America, now living in the United States with his European lover of four years, visited in our home while his lover was away to Europe to bury his Christian father.
“I don’t have any friends,” he told us, which is not the Antonio we know. We met Antonio in South America, always at the center of any gathering. Antonio is somewhat quiet, but as a gay man he was open to the world and flowed with the party. But now, he was telling us, that here in America with a closeted professional as his partner, he was all alone. His partner comes out to no one. . . . [For the full article, click here.]
Excerpt:
I’ve heard it said: It is better to be hated for who I am, than loved for who I am not. Men who step out of the closet know this.
A gay man’s closet is his own closed casket – he is dead and no one sees him (his parents above all), and those who do see him, like Antonio, are dead with him in the closed casket.
And similarly, a mother’s open casket cannot love a closeted gay son – only in his mind. Whatever Burt told his mother as she lay in her casket (so that he could say, “OK, I’m ready now”) will not radically reduce his fear of rejection. Only a loving, understanding living mother gives acceptance. Why didn't he take the risk when she was alive, to say who he is. Isn't relationship worth the risk, even the risk of running up against the wrath of the church? [For the full article, click here.]
(The three characters depicted in this writing are real and their stories are true; names have been changed, places are left unidentified, and some descriptions have been altered.)
Excerpt:
Burt
On a Wednesday morning while traveling out of the city, my husband and I received an unusual text from a gay friend: “My mother is dying right in front of my eyes.” Four hours later: “She’s gone.” It was sudden and totally unexpected. Burt is in his thirties. He has never come out to his parents or siblings, or virtually anyone . . . [For the full article, click here.]
Excerpt:
Craig
Several months back, a second gay man we personally know lost his father. The son, Craig, in his forty’s, was living in one country in Asia with his lover of four years when it became known that his father was dying in another country in Asia, his parents’ mother-land. With his lover at his side, he went to be with his mother and his dying father, and for many days nursed his father until he died. He introduced his lover as a very close friend who was with him for support and comfort. On the day of the burial, as the guests and family left the site of the internment, the son and lover had to separate. The family was to have a time of remembrance alone as a family. . .[For the full article, click here.]
Excerpt:
Antonio
The same week that Burt’s mother died, a gay friend, Antonio, from Latin America, now living in the United States with his European lover of four years, visited in our home while his lover was away to Europe to bury his Christian father.
“I don’t have any friends,” he told us, which is not the Antonio we know. We met Antonio in South America, always at the center of any gathering. Antonio is somewhat quiet, but as a gay man he was open to the world and flowed with the party. But now, he was telling us, that here in America with a closeted professional as his partner, he was all alone. His partner comes out to no one. . . . [For the full article, click here.]
Excerpt:
I’ve heard it said: It is better to be hated for who I am, than loved for who I am not. Men who step out of the closet know this.
A gay man’s closet is his own closed casket – he is dead and no one sees him (his parents above all), and those who do see him, like Antonio, are dead with him in the closed casket.
And similarly, a mother’s open casket cannot love a closeted gay son – only in his mind. Whatever Burt told his mother as she lay in her casket (so that he could say, “OK, I’m ready now”) will not radically reduce his fear of rejection. Only a loving, understanding living mother gives acceptance. Why didn't he take the risk when she was alive, to say who he is. Isn't relationship worth the risk, even the risk of running up against the wrath of the church? [For the full article, click here.]
