The Man I Call My Father
I've known my mother's husband -- the man I call my father -- all my conscious life. I know that there have been many times when I've disappointed him, when he wouldn't have chosen me if he hadn't married my mother. It's not like I robbed a bank or anything, just little things like when he and his son Glenn would be out in the garage working on cars, I would be inside the house reading. Or when Glenn was out playing sports, and I was always the last chosen for a team during gym class. But there were also times when I know that he was proud of me. When I succeeded academically and graduated top of my high school class, he was happy to introduce me as his son.
When I came out as gay to my mother and him, he replied that he could never accept or condone homosexuality, but that he still considered me his son. Our relationship was a little rocky then for a few years, but time worked its magic and things got better. More years passed, and I met and fell in love with Mark. We bought a house together and we started our life together. My family (including the man I call my father) welcomed Mark into the family.
About 5 years ago, same-sex marriage started to become a possibility. This, however, was something that the man I call my father just could not accept and so he no longer calls me his son. He even tells extended family members who have known me for years that I am no longer his son.
To him, marriage is something different, and it changes everything.
On this, I may have to agree with him. Mark & I have spent thousands of dollars on lawyers to get all the legal documents we can sign to provide us with a fraction of the benefits that a roughly $50 marriage license will provide a straight couple. But, even with all our legal documents, there isn't any guarantee that they will be followed.
If Mark & I travel to the state my mother and her husband live in, and I'm in an accident and taken to the hospital, the hospital might choose to ignore any "power of attorney for health care" that Mark shows, and forbid him from being in the emergency room with me. The hospital might allow the man I call my father (as nearest legal relative) to make health care decisions for me and deny Mark any rights at all. With enough time, and spending more money on lawyers, Mark would probably eventually get the rights I want him to have, but in an accident, would I still be alive by the time the legal stuff was dealt with?
And it doesn't end if I die. I believe that if I lived in Virginia, even my will could be challenged, and that the man I call my father could try to have Mark removed from our house upon my death and thrown out on the street.
And that's just talking about the things that don't cost anyone anything (well, other than us, paying for lawyers). We also couldn't add the other to a work health insurance policy -- or if that company did allow such things (most don't), we would be taxed on the perceived benefit. We can't file joint taxes. When one of us dies, the other will owe taxes on anything that is inherited -- including the house -- unlike a straight married couple where all the assets just transfer to the surviving spouse.
I know that its unfair, but I partly blame the man I call my father for this state of affairs. I know that he is just one person, but if parents won't stand up for their children and try to make the world a better place for their children, then our civilization is indeed on a bad path. For, you see, the man I call my father really is my biological father, and I am his biological son. I still call him my father. Maybe some day, he'll call me his son again. I hope by that time he'll also be calling Mark his son-in-law.
When I came out as gay to my mother and him, he replied that he could never accept or condone homosexuality, but that he still considered me his son. Our relationship was a little rocky then for a few years, but time worked its magic and things got better. More years passed, and I met and fell in love with Mark. We bought a house together and we started our life together. My family (including the man I call my father) welcomed Mark into the family.
About 5 years ago, same-sex marriage started to become a possibility. This, however, was something that the man I call my father just could not accept and so he no longer calls me his son. He even tells extended family members who have known me for years that I am no longer his son.
To him, marriage is something different, and it changes everything.
On this, I may have to agree with him. Mark & I have spent thousands of dollars on lawyers to get all the legal documents we can sign to provide us with a fraction of the benefits that a roughly $50 marriage license will provide a straight couple. But, even with all our legal documents, there isn't any guarantee that they will be followed.
If Mark & I travel to the state my mother and her husband live in, and I'm in an accident and taken to the hospital, the hospital might choose to ignore any "power of attorney for health care" that Mark shows, and forbid him from being in the emergency room with me. The hospital might allow the man I call my father (as nearest legal relative) to make health care decisions for me and deny Mark any rights at all. With enough time, and spending more money on lawyers, Mark would probably eventually get the rights I want him to have, but in an accident, would I still be alive by the time the legal stuff was dealt with?
And it doesn't end if I die. I believe that if I lived in Virginia, even my will could be challenged, and that the man I call my father could try to have Mark removed from our house upon my death and thrown out on the street.
And that's just talking about the things that don't cost anyone anything (well, other than us, paying for lawyers). We also couldn't add the other to a work health insurance policy -- or if that company did allow such things (most don't), we would be taxed on the perceived benefit. We can't file joint taxes. When one of us dies, the other will owe taxes on anything that is inherited -- including the house -- unlike a straight married couple where all the assets just transfer to the surviving spouse.
I know that its unfair, but I partly blame the man I call my father for this state of affairs. I know that he is just one person, but if parents won't stand up for their children and try to make the world a better place for their children, then our civilization is indeed on a bad path. For, you see, the man I call my father really is my biological father, and I am his biological son. I still call him my father. Maybe some day, he'll call me his son again. I hope by that time he'll also be calling Mark his son-in-law.