I am blessed to receive almost daily emails from parents who are struggling with or celebrating the fact of learning that they have a gay child. In honor of Mother’s Day, I would like to share anonymously two emails recently sent by mothers who have come to rejoice in the experience of being the mother of a gay son.
Eight years ago I wrote to you. I was so distraught about how to help my son who told me he was gay. You told me to basically just love him. That he would be fine. That I would be fine.
In your newsletter today I saw the word, “Transforming” and realized–that is exactly what I have done all these years. The blessings of having a gay son has been very “transforming.” I am a different person. He is a different person. My family is a different family. We love more. We judge less.
My heart breaks when I see or hear someone who is so closed-minded on this issue. But then I remember, I also was closed-minded until I had to “transform.” I believe that God finds His ways to teach us all to “transform” into someone better. Some of us embrace this gift, and some of us shun the gift. We refuse to become that butterfly. We always think that being a caterpillar is better, because that is all we know. I am still in my cocoon. I feel that becoming a true butterfly takes a lifetime of learning and growing. But I am grateful for life’s experiences that are teaching me that there is more to life than just staying a caterpillar. And you were right–simply to love is the key.
April 15th — Patriot’s Day.
Not a day I have really thought about
much less celebrated, until now.
My beautiful son “came out” on Patriot’s Day.
It is only fitting, really,
that by chance my own little rebel,
courageous and bold,
should choose this day to take a stand.
Some gay people come out of the closet,
carefully cracking the door, eyes squinting, protecting.
Who could blame the reluctance?
After all, the stakes are high.
I am in awe!
My son came out
Like a Jack-in-the-box!
For years, stuck on repeat,
the music in the box had been playing
over and over and over again.
The boy in the box desperately wanted to get out.
But he stayed and he stayed
for many years all crunched up with the lid on tight.
Deep. Silent. Safe.
Patiently, painfully, anxiously,
in the little dark box…
Until one day,
it was enough!
The music abruptly came to a stop.
And just like that–SNAP!
Like Jack, he exploded out of the box, terrified,
not knowing how he would be received.
He was out.
Bravely standing there on top of the box,
vulnerable and earnest with his arms open wide.
No one was more surprised and delighted
than Jack himself as he tumbled into the arms
May all mothers–and fathers–of gay children find and celebrate the gifts that these children bring to the family and to the world.
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