Gay brothers, I sometimes fantasize about a group of us meeting regularly as 16-year-olds, led by a respected gay elder, and that we’d be visited weekly by mentors who talked about all aspects of gay life, from celebrating the feminine strengths of our male brains to the various ways men make love with one another. And we’d learn our history of contributions to the cultures in which we lived.
The Wise Snowy Owl
Brian McNaught has been an author and educator on LGBTQ issues since 1974. Former Congressman Barney Frank said of Brian, “No one has done a better job of chronicling what it’s like to grow up gay."
When I was a young man, it didn’t occur to me to be grateful for my life. Maybe it was because I imagined everyone else had the same life as mine, and my focus was on succeeding, but I’m not sure at what. As a gay elder, my days start and end with gratitude, not forced or feigned, nor because I believe that if I don’t say “Thank you” now that I’ll pay for it in the next life.
Since reading “Great Expectations” by Dickens, the character Miss Havisham has represented a person who can’t let go of the past, nor the grievances they engender. She’d been left at the altar by a devious fraud that forever haunted her feelings on love. She left everything as it was on the day of her nuptial, including her wedding cake. Spiders and mice eventually ruled her home.
Normally, when corresponding with someone new, I’ll sign off, “With best wishes.” The second e-mail is signed “With warm regards.” The third exchange moves to “With warmest regards,” and finally, I write, “Love, Brian.” This shakes some people up because the word “love” represents so many feelings, from “I like you a lot,” to “We’re at a very intimate level.”
A friend wrote about a conversation she had with her son regarding the differences between Catholics and Southern Baptists. She told him that Catholics aren’t allowed to read the Bible.
Do you have a favorite bathrobe? I have two and I love them equally. They feel great, and I think I look good in them. They complement my gray hair.
When Ray and I made the decision to have a puppy join us in our final years, we were conscious of the chaos doing so would include. Our floors are covered with large diaper pads and more than a dozen toys. When Sebastian playfully sinks his tiny shark teeth into our arm, or a chair leg there needs to be a toy or chew stick within arm’s reach to distract him.
Sebastian, our Aussiedoodle puppy, arrives this week. He’s named after St. Sebastian, the unofficial patron saint, or icon, of gay men. Perpetua and Felicity are the unofficial patron saints of lesbians.
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