A friend of Jamers and mine posted this today. He's a great guy.
Fourteen years ago today I buried Rod, the great love of my life, the man I had spent almost 16 years with and who was the husband of my heart because that's all the law then allowed. It's a different world nowadays, and I'm still here although at the time I felt my life was over. I remember that last awful night in the hospital, and him telling me "no more, no more pills, no more shots, nothing's working, I can't take the pain and I'm ready." Then he asked If I would be alright. I couldn't stop crying, and I wanted to ask him to please keep fighting because I wasn't ready to lose him. But I said "it's ok, baby, nobody could have been braver, if you're ready just let go, I'll be OK." I fed him some ice cream, I rubbed his swollen feet, I turned the TV to the classic movie channel, and I kissed him one last time. He died 20 minutes before I returned the next morning, and the lovely nurse at the hospital waited by the elevator, grabbed me as I stepped off, and whispered to me she was sure he wanted to make sure I wasn't there to see him go. Then his family took over, and everything he didn't want done was done. I had no say. Our 16 years meant nothing legally, our NYC domestic partnership didn't govern these circumstances. Yes, it's a different world and I feel such joy for gay couples that can marry openly now, but I'm embarrassed to say I also feel a little jealousy and a stab of pain that we never had that chance. I feel such fury in my heart when others denigrate or dismiss the love of those couples as if it lacks honesty or purity. Two days ago I was diagnosed with the illness that will likely be my cause of death. Not now, but in 5,10,15 years. I hope it's the 15, but I also hope that when it happens there will be someone there to hold me, to listen to me, to tell me i am loved. I loved Rod more than anything on this Earth. I still talk to his photo on my nightstand, I still wonder what he would have said about certain things. I especially think of him today, as I remember those years loving him, traveling with him, learning about the world through him, then those months nursing him, and as I ponder my own mortality
