Love and acceptance win out over hatred and rejection every time…REALLY!


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My grandmother passed away last Fall, just shy of her 101st birthday. She’s been a widow since 1995, when my grandfather died from prostate cancer.  Back then, we didn’t know as much as we know now…and it was an ugly, slow and painful death.  In fact, I raise awareness and funds every year now during “Movember” because of his health situation…as well as his brother and dad’s, who also died of prostate cancer…

I grew up close to my grandparents (on my mom’s side), as well as my dad’s mom.  My paternal grandfather died when I was young so I never really knew him.  In my high school years, we spent almost every Christmas or Thanksgiving with the Schneider’s, as our home in New Jersey was a short 2 hours from theirs in Pennsylvania.  I flew in my grandfather’s plane, helped him learn electronic typewriters, automated spreadsheets and computers.  From family photos and videos, I know that growing up, we spent a lot of time with them as well.  I have 2 full VCR tapes, sprinkled with visits to Mee-maw and Pop-pop, or Mee-maw Fuqua.  My grandfather came to my college graduation, and was pretty proud of my budding IT career at Lilly.  I was there about 5 years when he passed away…

What I learned at the time, in 1995, was he harbored some hatred of my homosexuality.  He thought less of me quite honestly, and didn’t think a same-sex partner of mine should be treated with the same respect that my brother and sister’s spouses were and would be.  We discovered this based on some wording in the legal terms of stocks that he left the grandkids in 1995.  Though few thought it was legally valid, he basically forbade any of the money he willed to me, to go to my “issue” when I died (a legal term for my dependents, aka my same-sex partner or  spouse should I be in a long-term relationship).  That was a bitter pill of rejection to swallow at the ripe age of ~25, after thinking I was so loved and respected all those years growing up.  His stubborn German mindset won out in the end, and he wrote hatred and discrimination into his last Will and Testament.

At the time, I remember my grandmother looking at me sternly, and saying something to the effect of “I will not stand for that, Todd.  No worries – consider this undone as far as I’m concerned.   He was perhaps not in his right mind at his death…but regardless, I will not have you treated like that.”  I knew the unconditional love and acceptance of my Polish matriarch…she ruled the nest in the end, and love and acceptance won out in the end.

Fast forward to this week.  It turns out, my grandfather’s ugly act reached further in the future (now the present…)  My grandmother was living off a trust set up in her name, but established and governed by my grandfather’s Last Will and Testament some 20 years ago.  As would normally be the case, once she were to pass, any remaining funds would be left to their children, my mom and Uncle.  And, as would normally be the case, should one of those “issues” precede my grandmother in death, then their share would be distributed to their “issues” – their children.

So, to translate all that into English…since my mom died before my grandmother, her share of the remaining trust would normally be split equally to my sister, my brother and me. Normally.  If my grandfather didn’t breath more hatred and rejection into his last decisions…  As his only gay grandchild, he chose to exclude me from these final arrangements….a final slap in the face from the grave if you will.

(I’m sorry – call it what you will, but it hurts even 20 years later…so spare me the glossy discounting.  Call a spade a spade…)

Of course, my grandmother’s spirit lives on…and I’m glad to have siblings who love me unconditionally, and have loved my partners Jeff and Jerry as their own in-laws….particularly “Uncle Jerry.”  So, like their grandmother, they immediately sought to right the situation and ensure that love and acceptance triumphed.  In fact, since the “hate letter” from the lawyer came to us while I was on vacation, my sister was particularly worried how I might react, reading it cold turkey yesterday.  So, she reached out to my dad (who I was visiting in Florida for an escape to warmer climates and time with family..) to make sure that he told me in person what to expect in the letter…and that my siblings had already brainstormed ways to shave off my share and get it to me, in spite of the old coot’s wishes. 😉

My siblings will probably never fully appreciate how that simple act of preemptive and unconditional love meant to me…how much it brought some relief and healing to the wound that was ripped back open, having been healed in the past by Mee-maw’s similar act of justice.  Of course, I will tell them..and share this post with them.  But until you’ve experienced such hatred and rejection simply for who you are, how you were born…one can only empathize, not sympathize.

I’m eternally grateful for Mee-maw, Lisa and Jonathan’s act of love and acceptance — as well as my dad’s gesture of conversation.

Rest assured, I’m sure that Pop-pop has already been “set right” in Heaven by the Powers that Be, my Mom and my Grandmother…and woe to him particular for Mee-maw’s swift words…forget the Powers that Be in this case 😉  She chewed him out good…I can hear her…“Groh, you selfish, silly man…how could you?”  As only a 100+ year old first generation American-Polish matriarch could…

You made a difference…


Ironically, I’ve heard this quote twice this week – casting very different circumstances on someone’s life (although one was just a movie character).

Clearly, as a species or individuals, I think it’s common to want to look back on our lives and feel like we made a difference.  On a level, I think that’s noble.  But let’s look at ways to accomplish that goal, and what – in the end – really matters (IMHO).

I saw the new Jack Ryan movie this week. [SPOILER ALERT:  skip this paragraph if you want to see the movie…]  The main villain shares with someone during the movie that he feels like his life will have made a difference.  We find out later that  orchestrated a worldwide criminal plot, on behalf of his country and in memory of his son’s life, lost in war as a hero for his country.  Noble cause – to want to have made a difference.  Even noble in wanting to do so on behalf of one’s dead son, or one’s country.   I think we can all agree that it ends there, in terms of nobility.

But his story echoes this common theme:  finding self worth and value in life by making a difference.

The second time I heard this quote came today.  A friend died unexpectedly this week – as of yet, we don’t know the circumstances behind his death.  But, an early co-griever shared these words about our common friend:

You’re someone who cared
You were gentle, sweet, and kind
You made a difference

What an awesome way to be remembered : as caring, gentle, sweet, and kind.  I’d add that he was also authentic and passionate in life.  And he did make a difference.

Now, here’s where you might expect me to highlight a series of accomplishments on the same “scale” or “grandeur” to mirror the movie character’s goals in life. Well, I’m glad to say that’s where I think those three simple sentences are enough…more than enough. While there’s no Nobel Peace Prize, or national publicity on his accomplishments…does that really matter — for any of us?

Mike made a difference in the lives of those around him. He made relationships, telling stories, and celebrating others a priority.  He listened.  He was vulnerable.  He invited trust and showed compassion.  He understood that we are all connected — all living things — and took great pride and joy in that fact.

For me, there’s no better way to be remembered.

At times, with my life experience, I’ve honestly  believed that nobody would come to my funeral — that I would die alone, not having made a difference.  I also found my identity and self-worth primarily in my work — what I did — not who I was, or how I lived out my life.  I’m very grateful that I’m now able to see life so differently — through the powerful witness of others and through my own life experience.

I’m grateful for the lives of friends like Scott, Mike, and Phil who remind me that in the end, what is remembered is how we live, not what we do or what we accomplish.

I’ll  close here with some sacred and inspiring thoughts from a singer and poet I had the fortune of meeting last year at a conference on Asset Based Community Development.  Her words are both comforting and joyful.  Thank you Barbara for your gift…

I Wish That I Could Show You

Lyrics: Based on a quote by Hafiz 

I wish that I could show you
Whenever you are lonely or walking in the dark
The astonishing Light of your Being

When I Die

August 2011
©  Barbara McAfee

When I die I know there’ll be singing
By my friends all gathered around
As their sweet voices fade behind me
I will join with the One Great Sound
And I’ll stand on a sunset hillside
Just like I did in that dream
Join the multitudes there who are singing
The song inside everything

When I die I hope I’m not frightened
But it’s not for me to know
What awaits me there at the threshold
What’s required in letting go
Every time I leave home
Or someone I love
Or a place sweet and holy
Each night as I slip into slumber
I am learning how to die

When I die I’ll fall into a hammock
Woven of each song I’ve ever sung
I have sent them all forward to catch me
On the day that my life is done.
I will slip into that great mystery
As I did in the cool lake at dawn
I will swim those eternal waters
Let the current of love take me home

When I die I know there’ll be singing
By my friends all gathered around
As their sweet voices fade behind me
I will join with the One Great Sound

Link to her latest CD, with these two songs…

Being stuck with choices


[I started this draft on December 21, 2011.  I never finished it.  I’m positing it now because it captures where I was at the time.]

The worst place for this addict to be stuck is up in my head.  Having been sick for the past six days hasn’t helped me either.  I’ve been stuck home alone in varying degrees of pain and discomfort, restless and discontent.  Thus far, the holidays had been joyful and upbeat.  But, my inner peace has been slowly unraveling, the weight of my circumstances bearing down on my heart.  I’ve allowed myself to drift away from the spiritual connections that have kept me grounded despite the daily grind.  I’ve reverted to isolation, which only feeds my loneliness and self-pity.  And stuck in self-pity is a dangerous place for this addict to find himself.  I shouldn’t be surprised – I didn’t end up here by accident, or by some outside force that dragged me here against my will.  I ended up here by a series of choices — either actions I took, or failed to take, in response to circumstances in my life.

And, with the same relative ease that allowed me to slip into this dark place, I am able to make different choices which will bring me back to a place of acceptance, peace and joy.  I can recenter myself by letting go, and letting my Higher Power resume control.

The choice is mine.