He's My Uncle, And I'll Cry If I Want To

"The key thing to remember is that we'll never convince extremists to change. That's not the point. We must counter BS, wherever we find it."


I really don't feel like writing about this, because it's very upsetting to me. However, a very Yoda-like mentor of mine has warned me that if I don't get it off of my chest, it will weigh me down to the point of distraction, so here it goes:


Last weekend, Hurricane Irene was bearing down on the east coast. My Uncle Greg had sent a message that the storm was pretty strong there, and mentioned that he'd gathered some supplies, including "battery-powered everything he could find" in case the power went out.


I jokingly replied that he shouldn't have talked his husband, my bonus Uncle Jim, out of purchasing that generator he was thinking about last year, and we bantered back and forth about it.


A couple days later, I learned that Jim was in the hospital after experiencing chest pain while exercising, and there were plans to put in a stint. Shortly thereafter, I was told that a stint wouldn't be possible, as the area in trouble was not accessible any other way than via open-heart surgery. It seemed a little more serious, but I knew that David Letterman and Regis Philbin had survived triple and quintuple bypass surgeries, so I was concerned, but not necessarily alarmed... until, that is, I learned that after additional tests the decision was made to schedule the surgery much more quickly than originally planned.


Jim is a seventy-something who is very active and youthful. It's difficult for me to remember sometimes that he's not in his 50's, which is what most people would assume based on his appearance and his "zip". Though he may be retired from his job of 30+ years as a private school principal, he's always zipping around the house, cleaning, doing laundry, washing dishes, working in the yard, running errands, and stays very active volunteering at the Episcopal church which he attends quite regularly.


Regular readers of my blog know that Jim has been a member of our family for 25+ years, which is how long he and Greg have been together. However, it wasn't until 2009 that Greg and Jim were able to legally marry, affording them the same respect under the law that any couple willing to commit to one another and add to the stability of their community deserves.


There were many years which I had nothing to do with any of my family members. It wasn't because I didn't want to have anything to do with any of them, but more that there were some who had said and done some extremely hurtful things to me in the past and which were so toxic for me to be around that I truly felt the only way I could insulate myself from the pain was to completely sever all ties with everyone in the family.


During that time, I frequently thought of those family members with whom I have a strong emotional connection and how much I missed them, how I wondered what was going on in their lives and hoped they were happy. It was as if I lived in another world - another dimension. It was very difficult in many ways, but I am 100% certain that if I had not kept a certain distance I would never have had the focus to work in the fields in which I worked for many years successfully, and while I wouldn't change how I chose to protect myself all those years, I do regret the time lost with the people with whom I am now reconnected.


Now that most of the people who were the source of much of my anguish are deceased I have been able to reconnect with some family members. It has been a wonderful experience catching up and getting reacquainted. In many ways, we're just getting to know one another for the first time, since I was only about 19 when I began isolating myself.


Fast forward to the present, and I've really gotten to know my Uncle Jim. Truly, he is a beautiful person through and through, and both he and Greg are people who truly seem to have a grasp on what "unconditional love" really means.


Once the severity of the situation sunk in, I became very worried... worried about Jim, worried about Greg and how he would handle the stress of it all... I'm quite certain that the situation brought back memories for Greg of his older brother and my father, Ben, who died at age 38 of brain cancer in 1985.


My grandfather and bonus grandmother were supposed to be flying up to Massachusetts for a visit with Greg and Jim this Labor Day weekend, but the trip was postponed due to Jim's illness. We all kept in touch throughout the week and tried to stay optimistic. Those friends and family who pray were diligent in prayer, and those of us who aren't religious comforted ourselves with the knowledge that there were excellent medical professionals and surgeons involved, and we also knew that since Greg is an M.D. he would be diligent in making sure every possible extra step and precaution that could be taken would be.


As a side note, let me say that I'm very grateful for my bonus aunt, Ann, who was part of the circle of communication. I'd also like to credit my friend Gina Lynette, who inspired me to begin using the term "bonus" instead of "step-aunt", "step-grandmother", or "aunt-in-law". Truly, any time one has a relative who marries or remarries, it is a bonus when the family grows in diversity, regardless of the form that diversity takes. We all have different ideas and opinions about various things, but we all love one another, and that love takes precedence over anything else.


I was unable to sleep Wednesday night as I struggled with anxiety of what the outcome would be for Jim during surgery the next day. I had hope and a strong confidence that everything would be alright, and yet, even the remote possibility that the outcome would be different than what we were all hoping for was enough to rattle me.


I waited all day Thursday and checked in with Greg to see how things were going, and around six or so in the evening I got word that the surgery was successful and Jim was back in his room.


At the time I received the message, I was going over some plans with a couple of employees of a company which hired me to handle some marketing projects for them over the coming months. I've worked with them in the past, and I had warned them that I might be a little distracted at our meeting that afternoon. One guy, I'll call him "J", who is known for being a right-wing conservative, seemed a bit annoyed with me. His answers to queries I had about the project were rather short and he seemed hostile. I couldn't figure out what I had done to cause this, but reminded myself that it could very well be a problem he was having that had nothing to do with me, and tried to overlook it.


Those who don't know me in real life might not have an accurate understanding of just how sensitive I can be. It's both a strength and a weakness of mine. Being empathetic and sensitive can make one very perceptive, which is a definite advantage when it comes to relating to people and deflecting problems. Unfortunately, it can also leave one raw and vulnerable. As I've matured over the years I've become better at putting up my emotional shield, sometime to the point where I'm misunderstood by those who mistake my critical thinking skills and refusal to buy into what so many are selling without reason as making me a detached, unfeeling person. However, those who know me would never make that mistake.


The people under discussion know me, but don't know me that well. I suppose when I had to take a break and my eyes welled up with tears of joy and relief at knowing that Jim was on the road to recovery they were caught off guard, since people I work with don't normally see that side of me. One minute I'm fine and talking about programming an iPhone app, the next I'm welling up with tears after glancing at my phone and seeing the pop up message on my screen.


I excused myself so I could gather my wits and get some fresh air, which apparently really annoyed "J". When we were wrapping things up for the evening, there was discussion about going out for an early Labor Day weekend celebration, and "J", who has expressed interest in having me as a dinner date in the past, asked if I wanted to come along.


I explained that, while I was happy that my Uncle Jim was recovering after a successful heart surgery, I was feeling quite drained and felt more like going home and having some quiet time. That's when it happened... "J" let loose with a very caustic "I wish you wouldn't refer to him as your uncle. He's not your uncle in my eyes, and I don't agree with that."


"That" apparently refers to the legal relationship between my Uncles Greg and Jim. He doesn't agree with it. He doesn't agree with it because he believes his religious book, "The Holy Bible", says it is wrong, and therefore, it annoys him that I affirm it by using the word "uncle" when referring to my blood uncle's spouse, who happens to be a man and happens to be my uncle, and was my uncle long before the state of Massachusetts allowed taxpaying homosexuals to get married so they could take part in the same benefits they are forced to pay into and in which straight couples are able to take part.


I know my loyal blog readers are expecting me to share with you the tirade which you are no doubt certain that I launched against this douche bag. Perhaps you are already aware that in my vivid imagination, I have since fantasized about playing the role of O-ren Ishii in Kill Bill 1 and collecting this asshole's head.


However, in the moment when I was experiencing this very insensitive, downright cruel behavior from a clearly bigoted jackass, I was unable to respond in the fashion one would predict for a freedom-fighting, free-thinking person such as myself. Instead, my reaction was this:


I wept.


I wept as I was driving home, and when I got home, I sobbed.


I wasn't hurting for myself as much as I was for every person on this planet who has ever, is now, or ever will be the subject of conversation by self-righteous idiots who think they have the moral high ground over other people with whom they "don't agree with", or with whose "lifestyles" they "don't agree with".


And now, for the record, and in the spirit of countering bullshit with facts, let me be clear about some things that I do not agree with:


I, for one, do not agree with eating chicken livers. Chicken livers are not only disgusting to look at in my opinion, they are also nasty-tasting organs which filter waste in the body, and that's not an opinion, it's a fact. However, I have many friends (and one roommate) who loves chicken livers, and I would never, EVER, withhold love or compassion or act in a cruel manner to any person who eats chicken livers.


"But Angie, that's different. We're talking about a moral issue, not a food choice. Food choices are not religious or moral issues, but choice in sexual partners and the choice to practice those choices is a religious and moral issue."


Oh yeah? Well then, allow me to put it this way:


Forget for a moment that sexual orientation has been proven time and again not to be a choice. It isn't a choice to be attracted to the same sex anymore than it is a straight person's choice to be attracted to the opposite sex. If you can't pray away the straight, you can't pray away the gay.


In the Jewish faith, and in the Christian faith for those who diligently follow the book of Leviticus in "The Old Testament" portion of "The Holy Bible", eating pork or shellfish is considered sinful. 


Many believe "The Holy Bible" says that homosexuality is an abomination, (It doesn't. It actually says "laying with a man as you would with a woman", as in disrespectfully using a person's body with no regard for that person as anything but property, as women were treated and often still are by many men.)


However, there is no room for doubt when it comes to "The Holy Bible" and its claim that an omnipotent god finds eating pork or shellfish to be an abomination. It is very clearly stated.


Interesting how people pick and choose which abomination they will use as an excuse to hate others, and which they will ignore when they feel like chowing down on some BBQ pork ribs or BACON, BACON, BACON!!!


Oh, and let's not forget: it is not Kosher for a Jewish person to eat meat and dairy together, and there are strict rules for how food preparation must be conducted so as to never use even the same utensils or sinks as meat for preparing meals using dairy products. I have more than one Jewish friend who honors these traditions, but nope. They wouldn't hate on someone who married someone who eats pepperoni and cheese pizza.


So back to why I was really crying... I forgot to mention that what disturbs, frightens, and hurts me the most from this encounter, is the forced realization that, despite the fact that we have built an international space station which resides outside of the earth's atmosphere, have the ability to prevent polio, and have achieved incredible advances in the fields of science and medicine, we are still living in a world infected with humans who do not possess the discernment to recognize that their attitudes and behaviors are driven by fear and ignorance, often willfully so, in order to justify a primitive, hate-based reaction to something which they either do not prefer for themselves or don't understand and/or dislike in others.


This whole situation gives me flashbacks to when my father was dying of brain cancer and there were people at school who said he was being punished by god for being attracted to men.


Even as I type these words, I can feel my stomach tumbling. It's sickening.


There. I said what I had to say. I can't say that I feel better, but at least I'm not carrying the burden by myself any longer, and hopefully someone will read this and realize what an absolute jackass they are and maybe humble themselves enough to admit that they have been wrong to single out one group of allegedly "abominable" people over another.


If not, maybe they'll at least stop being hypocrites and engaging in the abominable behavior of consuming bottom-feeding crustaceans and other "unclean" animals and there will be less crab, lobster, and pork consumed. After all, that leaves more food for heathens like me who refuse to allow ancient people who had no idea where lightning comes from to dictate what we eat for dinner.


A.