When a grandmother does not understand that her nephew is gay

Reflections by Marta

Sometimes I read the reflections that exchange the group of Christian parents with email with LGBT children, of "3 painted parents"Sometimes. Then then it hurts and I don't read anymore. It is an evil I know, but that I cannot avoid: when I read" husband and wife "," father and mother ", and I am alone, to act as a mother and father ... yes, I confess, I feel uncomfortable.

The discomfort that comes from the invidia that I feel for those who have someone with whom to exchange opinions, doubts, reflections, decisions, weights, efforts ... it is an envy that causes me anger, especially when I am tired, and I have to row my sleeves and arrange me. But at the same time I don't want anyone's pity. I would have liked to share, the weight brought together, not to feel compared. Never. Because I do it. I know I do it, tightening my teeth, but I do it.

There are couples who, although dividing themselves, have maintained a good dialogue and mutual support at least to raise their children. We two do not. If with my ex -husband she had been able to speak, understand, I would not even have separated, and some civil and beneficial balance will have found it. But still I don't know what happened to him, in what madness not diagnosed he found herself entangled. I only know that life was impossible, and that I would not have been able to build anything with him. It is tiring to be alone, but with him it would have been a useless immense effort, and perhaps I would have already broken, if I had stayed with him.

So, now 15 years ago, I kept my children, and I provided them. Not to me. My time has not yet arrived. Or maybe I'm not able to get it. Perhaps my mother nourished me with that milk that makes women serve, capable of breaking up for others, but not really taking care of yourself. Unable to love yourself really well, to also love your own good, what makes you make decisions in your favor, every now and then. And not only in favor of others, children, parents, friends ... lovers ...

If it is true that everything makes sense of the path that God has put in front of us, it will also have a sense of this to have to occupy me with my mother, in this time. That mother who did not teach me to really be a free woman, impregnating me with the sense of duty, where dreams evaporate at the first light of the dawn of youth, and the due road is traced: girlfriend, wife, mother, before anything else.

That same mother of mine who today also promises to me in my near futureness, that grandfather that evokes nausea, and even vomiting. because I don't care, and i still don't want to continue doing what she, and her world, expect from me. and also because I can't tell them, no, i can't, if marco doesn't Want to, i can't tell her that Marco is gay, but a girlfriend will not take her home. at least I hope not, at least him, that he is free to be himself, of that freedom that i have not had.

Since the theme "homosexuality", at least as a discussion of topical topic, in our house is not taboo, every time my mother, marco's grandmother, hears About it, expresses herself with unease, and manifests the sense of vomiting that evokes the love relationship between two men. i endured a Little, for the respect that i owe, but i told her yet another expression, perhaps with a little aggression, that it would stop, because for us homosexuality is a normal thing, which depends on the characteristics of the person, like the color of the hair, or the stature, and that we believe it is right that everyone realizes as best he believes his love.

I have to have been particularly convincing, because he has no longer said anything. Which does not mean that it has understood. But at almost 90 years it is fine too. Of course, I thought, if Marco ... mah! Take his journey too, if I will still be alive, I will certainly be by his side.