My grandma’s sister Frances died today. She lived in and near Savannah, where they grew up (she’ll be buried in Bonaventure — such a deep old history in Savannah). Every time I saw Frances, when I was a child, I absolutely adored her. She and my grandma were some of the most fun loving people I knew. If there is a heaven, I’m sure these two fabulous women are having a rollicking good time together. You can see it in their eyes.
Last Thursday (April 29) I went on a Subway Music Tour with the energetic fabulous entertaining interesting artist/illustrator Zina Saunders as a part of the Gel conference (on of my favorite conferences). The Gel conference is basically a 2day summer camp for adults, only it’s in spring. This year it was a combination of technology, design, community, social consciousness, military, religion, art, music, politics, robots, inspiration, joy, whimsy, and some friends I hadn’t seen since last year’s Gel conference.
The conference is just 2 days, with choices of activities on the first day (this year I chose the music tour, and last year I went on an underground tunnel tour in Brooklyn) and an intriguing day of live music and presentations on the second day.
Everyone we talked with who plays in the subway mentioned that it’s a good place to rehearse/practice and, hopefully, make money too, though some of the musicians commented on how much they are ignored by all of the people who walk by. The Ebony Hillbillies performed at the conference on the second day of the conference and said that they use their subway performance times as rehearsal time/space.
Natalia Paruz was studying to be a dancer when she was in an accident that stopped her dance career. She saw someone playing the musical saw when she was in Austria and asked how to learn to play it. She was told to buy a saw at a hardware store and figure it out. She figured it out! She straps an iPod to her leg which plays backup music through an amp and a speaker while she plays her saw. Often people think she’s singing and she has to show them that it’s the saw, not her voice.
One of the musicians we chatted with and listened to was Luke Ryan at grand central station. He pointed to all of the people who walked by without looking at him and diagnosed and identified and stereotyped them and then mused about the commonalities and correlations between people who listen or stop or talk with subway musicians and those who don’t. Can Hunch figure out what inspires or motivates someone to listen or stop or talk or give money to a subway musician? Luke mentioned that he’d like to gather together the 30 or so people who pay attention to him every day and have a banquet — figuring that if they could all sit at a table together, he’d easily figure out what they all have in common. That’d be a fantastic dinner party!
While I was on the plane, flying to NYC for this conference, I received an email that my grandma (my dad’s mom) had died. Within the next day the funeral had been set for Sunday. I had plans for Saturday and Sunday in NYC with friends. By Friday I had decided I’d change my plans, change my plane ticket, buy a new plane ticket, reserve a rental car, and go to my grandma’s funeral.
I hadn’t seen her in a long time (I wasn’t as close to her as I was to my other grandma who died last year). We exchanged cards and photos at Christmas every year. She was always kind and gentle. She made a sock monkey for me as a child that I still have and that my 5 1/2 year old daughter now claims as her own. She spent almost all of her adult life as a mother, grandmother, great-grandmother, and finally, before she died, a great-great-grandmother. I loved the huge family gatherings with my dad’s family when I was a kid, with so many cousins and aunts and uncles and chaos and noise and diversity.
So I flew home to San Francisco on Saturday (instead of Sunday). My wife had tickets for the NCLR party that night and left a ticket for me on the counter. I changed into a tux and a ruffly shirt (in solidarity with Constance McMillen and Ceara Sturgis who were at the party and had suffered discrimination at their high schools due to wearing or wanting to wear a tux). I checked my wild einstein-curly hair in a mirror and went to find Moya at the party.
The next morning I put on a black suit and went back to the airport to fly to Portland, Oregon, get a rental car, and drive to the church for the funeral. All of my aunts and uncles and cousins were there, but my parents weren’t there. My younger brother read a letter from my dad recanting some sweet stories about my grandma (my dad’s mom). When my dad was a child, my grandma made him 3 shirts all from the same fabric, so people thought he was always wearing the same shirt, not 3 different shirts that were exactly the same. After the funeral at the church, there was a drive to a cemetary to bury my grandma, and then a drive back to the church for a meal with everyone. While sitting at a table with all of my siblings, with relatives and other people stopping by to chat with us, I remembered Luke Ryan’s comment that he’d like to have a banquet table for the 30+ people who stop by every day. Those 30+ people might not have as much in common as he hopes, or they might. In a large room in a church with most of my relatives, who I rarely see, I realized we all have our humanity in common, and that’s enough to treat people with graciousness even if they’re nervous around me or ignore me for whatever reason.
I think her entire family is proud of her too – they all showed up for our wedding and cheered for us and read for us and supported us on October 5, 2008. Not only did they show up, they also ready poetry, organized flowers, managed childern’s activities, and ushered our guests. I’m so honored to be a part of Moya’s family.
We’ve been married three times, first in San Francisco in 2004 which was later invalidated, then in Vancouver BC in 2007 which wasn’t legal when we came home to the U.S., and most recently in San Francisco again where we are now legally married in the state of California. Moya writes, Thank you Dad: I think I understand now, in reference to her parents not joining us at San Francisco City Hall in 2004 and then joining us for our weddings in 2007 and 2008.
My family was both missing and present at our wedding on October 5. Wedding photos usually include various arrangements of family members with the bride(s)/groom(s). While looking at the photos of me and Moya with my family and then me and Moya with Moya’s family, I can’t help but contrast the complete presence of Moya’s family and the partial presence of my family.
My 96-year-old grandma wrote the nicest note about why she couldn’t attend because she’s not able to do air travel and she wished us the most beautiful day. I adore her.
My mom sent an RSVP No (for her and my dad) with no explanation and never mentioned it to me. My dad mentioned in person that he wanted to come to “that thing you and Moya are doing on October 5.” I corrected him and said, “you mean our wedding?” and he graciously (though awkwardly, it seemed) nodded. He had an acceptable excuse because he had minor surgery a few days before our wedding. I wonder, however, if his surgery was also convenient for him so he wouldn’t need to try to attend. My parents are very religious and politically conservative. They’ve never congratulated me and Moya on our weddings or even mentioned them. They do, however, and I really appreciate this about them, openly welcome us in their home.
My older brother and his wife initially said that their filbert harvest would prevent them from attending our wedding for any weekend in October. Then my older brother said he couldn’t get the time off work. I wished his wife and sons had joined us when he couldn’t. They also didn’t come to Vancouver, BC for our wedding in 2007 though they never said why. I know they love us. I’m not sure why they didn’t attend our weddings.
It made me feel so good that my sister and my other brother came to the wedding and were with us all weekend. My sister Loret and her daughter Aislin and my brother Bryce and his wife Emily were there with us. Aren’t they all just beautiful!!
During our wedding ceremony, Loret read one of my favorite poems, “Litany” by Billy Collins, and Bryce read a very sweet poem that he wrote for us.
Bryce helped usher all of our guests. Emily and Bryce both took a lot of gorgeous photos and also took Lucy to the beach when she wanted to get away from the wedding reception party. Loret and Aislin helped entertain all of the kids at the wedding reception, and stayed at our house and helped us get ready the morning of our wedding. It really tickled me that all 4 of them were with us all weekend and I’m so grateful for their presence.
I know that my sister’s wife couldn’t be there because they have a new baby, and I know how hard it is to travel with an infant.
I love my family, even if some of them don’t show up for important events in my life, and I understand that religious and political beliefs could be keeping some of them from showing up (sigh). It’s often a relatively long evolutionary process for some people to wholeheartedly embrace and support and show up for their gay and lesbian family members the same way they show up for their straight family members.
A wedding is a wedding is a wedding regardless of the combination of bride+groom or groom+groom or bride+bride.
I love the way marriage extends our family and how Moya embraces all of the warmth as well as the delicate tensions in my family and how Moya’s family has embraced me as a part of them and how my family has (even if some of them have done it slowly and reluctantly) welcomed Moya as a part of all of us.