By: John Jericiau
You’re only two days into a nine-day business trip back east, and the boys and I miss you terribly. It’s the longest time apart for you and me since that fateful day on June 11th over 7 years ago. We found ourselves sitting in a Santa Monica movie theater watching The Stepford Wives and then getting to know each other over ten pins in a bowling alley. I enjoyed myself so much that night, even though on the inside I was suffering greatly from the loss a week before of my adopted son Ryan after having him in my home and heart (as a single guy) for a short 24 hours. When I finally did share that story with you over Rigatoni Bolognese on our fourth date, you were so sweet and supportive – I knew right then and there that you were a keeper. You had no plans at all regarding children in your life, but you made it known that your plans might include me and thus any of my dreams and aspirations.
A lot of the qualities you possess are amazing. You’re romantic but not over the top. When we coincidentally gave each other a card and little gift on July 11th to celebrate our first month together as well as the potential that we each saw in our budding relationship, we laughed but weren’t really surprised. Now 92 months later, having never missed a month of swapping cards and gifts, we still laugh but sometimes cry at the symbolism of this small but grand showing of love. It makes me realize just how much I cherish traditions in our family, first with us and now with our sons. Sunday breakfast at our favorite Venice restaurant, Saturday date night of dinner and a movie, Friday night at Baja Fresh after your yoga class —footprints of the life we are making— footprints that we continue to step in until they are so deep and permanent that someone notices that we actually exist, and there’s no need to be fearful of us. We’re not monsters, we’re not fiends. Just lovers floating on the river of joy and looking up at our reflections in the clouds.
I can see how much our boys admire you. “I want to become a doctor like my Papa” or “Papa loves me” are commonly heard when you’re not around. I admire you too. Always trying to better yourself with reading, observing, and listening. Even when you’re so busy at work, I smile when I see you bring home Raising Happy Boys or How to Make a Mountain Out of a Molehill or some other library book.
I can see how much the boys trust you. “Papa will help me do this because he said he would.” I trust you too. I know that to you my health and well-being is paramount – almost ahead of yours. I trust you with my health. I know that you have my back no matter what. People take for granted how precious that trust really is. I know you trust me and my love for you too.
So you’re gone right now and I’m like a three-legged dog. I can still walk, I can still eat, and I can still enjoy life with the boys. But what I would give for that fourth leg! It’s especially noticeable when I have a lot on my shoulders and I need that extra support that you give me. Or when I have an itch on the same side of my body as my missing leg and I really need you here to scratch it.
We know what a lot of this world thinks of us and our so-called family. It’s second-rate. It’s not quite a family. It’s a sham. But we just continue what we’re doing in hopes of showing by example that we are two people who simply love each other and our kids, and that we are not afraid to live the dream. I love that we embrace in public, that we sometimes walk the boys to school together, and that we file our taxes jointly. There are places on our beautiful earth that would execute us for showing our love —not too many people have to even consider that— and there is the outside chance that we could be harmed even in our own community, but we choose to be brave and live our life as we see fit.
So thank you, babe, for making me happy and your boys so content. I have been asking myself every moment if such happiness is not a dream. It seems to me that what I feel is not of this earth. I cannot yet understand this cloudless heaven. Forgive the craziness of your partner, your husband, your friend –who embraces you, and who adores you. I love you so much.
Come home soon.
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Originally published on The Seattle Lesbian
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