Grandma's Table

Side Note:

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The Entry:
I am getting braver with this whole blogging thing.  I have begun to "advertise" the blog to friends,  class mates, and family and have, therefore, invited them into my life in a way that I have never done.  I have been, throughout my life, very guarded and private; letting only close friends know intimate details and stories.  This blog has opened a door; i have a new desire to open my life to friends and family in a new, much less guarded, authentic, and raw way.  This blog has left me exposed in a manner that i have not been brave enough to be.  I am most concerned about the reactions from my family.  I feel like I have been one version of me in front of them and a very different one the rest of the time.  While i know that my family is (for the most part) supportive and encouraging, there is still the fear in the back of my mind that learning about my life on such a level that i bring to the blog may cause some of my family to turn their backs.  Losing my spot at my grandmother's dinner table would be one the biggest pains of my life, no matter how intensely i have defended my independence or drifted from their reach.

I think many, if not all, members of the LGBTQ community have faced this fear at some point in their lives.  It causes me great pain that i have not been able to say that i am totally out, although i have been out in my social, work, and home life for many years.  There are still pockets of my family that i have not explicitly told.  I have dropped hints like crazy to my uncles...but i haven't said the words "yup, i'm gay" to all of them.

Thanks to the divorce, my uncles became the "positive male role models" in my life and i looked to them often as the good guys in the world.  I always looked forward to dinners at grandma's house because i got to spend time with them; I loved hearing them laugh, tell stories about their childhood with my mom, and watching movies or games with them.  I got an email tonight from the middle uncle, Dave, with a link to his bowling team's fan page...it's a riot.  He bowls at the same alley as Dylan (different night and very different league).  I wrote back and casually mentioned that I am, indeed, a lesbian:  "The woman I am dating bowls in a league there on Fridays!  I love that place!"  (I am pretty sure that Dave knows, but it just feels good that i am FINALLY...officially...out to two of the three uncles.)

Uncle Jimmy, the youngest, has been a great source of strength, perspective, and insight to the family.  He was the first one of the three i told.  He is sure that my grandparents, his parents, will be supportive, loving, and there.  He told me stories of times in his life, as well and instances in my mother's, that he feared losing the support, trust, love and confidence of his parents.  He was relieved and surprised that as much as he "messed up" they were still standing tall by his side.   I am afraid, however, that they will cling to their Catholic heritage and use their faith as a reason to abandon and shun me.  Being gay in the Catholic church isn't a source of pride.  Many of my gay friends who are still with the church speak about instances of hate and prejudice although they are, in many respects, better Catholics than their straight counterparts.  I am worried my grandparents will not be willing to recognize my future partner and children as members of their family.  I am worried that my children will grow up without great-grandparents.  I cherish the memories that i have with my Granny and it hurts my soul to think that my children would miss out on making their own memories with great-grandparents because of ignorance and hate.  My grandparents and I have not always seen eye to eye - correction - we have never seen eye to eye.  They often infuriate me, but i am terrified of losing them.

The eldest Uncle, Steve, has always been the funny one.  I sit next to him at my grandparent's dinner table and we make jokes to each other under our breath.  I have loved growing up and getting to be an adult next to him.  He was one of the first people in my life to make me feel valid as a "grown up."  I'm not even sure what exactly happened, but i remember being looked to as an equal with valid insight in the adult conversations that we have over coffee and pie after the dinner table is cleared and as our meal digests.

There is a predictability about dinners and grandma's.  To my child-self, this predictability was a welcome change to the scurry i remember feeling about being at home.  As a child i remember often feeling out of control and chaotic.  Dinners at grandma's were always the same: neat, organized, and comforting.  The food was delicious and soul satisfying; I left with a full belly and an easy-going spirit.  I guess even my adult-self often feels panicked and out-of-control and as if i am standing in the middle of a storm so I have put off coming all the way out because i have feared losing my place at the table.