A Flourishing Gay Family
Stories from a grateful son, husband, dad, and Papa
All families have their own private shit. Certainly, that was true in my case and the lives of every gay man I have ever met.
But families can also be triumphant. Such was mine. And maybe yours.
Everyone tells me, “Mike, you have lived the most unusual gay Christian life ever!”
So here are some feel-good, true scenes from my life as a son, husband to my wife, dad, Papa, and husband to my husband.
My Relationship with My Dad
Gay boys are supposed to have a broken, unfulfilled relationship with their fathers. The infamous “Reparative Therapy” even presumes that such a detached relationship is the sole cause of a boy’s homosexuality.
Baloney.
I absolutely adored my dad. He was my hero.
He fits the supposed profile of a “bad” father-gay-son relationship. My dad physically resembled John Wayne. Tall, dark, and handsome. And strong. He wouldn’t take any guff from anyone; he was a World War II decorated superstar.
I did not have an “I love you” bond with my dad. Rather, it was “I am proud of you.” I knew I was always safe around my dad — a security many gay boys never had.
My dad believed the best in me. When I first started playing football as a young boy, my dad told me, “Mike, you are the toughest player on your team!” My self-esteem soared. If my dad said it was true, then it must be so. Unlike most gay boys, I then went on to excel in the rough-and-tumble of football.
In my eyes, I had the best dad in the world.
My Relationship with My Former Wife
As some of you may have already read from previous articles, my 41 year marriage with my now-deceased wife was two dynamically different stories. My coming-out to her marked the end of the first utopian story — and launched the beginning of the “my life in the wilderness” story.
I adored my wife and deeply loved her in every way. Originally, I considered myself “the luckiest man on earth!” Life was bliss for the first eight years, a life in Edan. Suddenly, all of that euphoria changed.
“Honey, I think I’m a homosexual.”
When the sixth word hit my wife’s eardrum, our marriage permanently digressed for the worse.
My wife was a very devout Evangelical. Thus, my “homosexuality” was a threat to her — and, to her, an egregious affront to God. Only one thing could revive our “dead-man-walking” marriage: if I could permanently lose all of my same-sex attraction.
Such was never possible. Try as I might.
I remember my wife and I going to a marriage counselor. He started the first session with a pencil and paper instrument purported to predict marriages that will succeed or fail. After scoring the inventory, the therapist grimly announced, “Well, the only thing good going for the two of you is that you scored high on “commitment.” And such was true. Commitment to our vows became the glue that held our shaky love together — until only death did us part.
However, I modestly admit we made a terrific pair of parents.
My Relationships with my Son and Daughter
I absolutely LOVED being a dad! And still do!!
With the exception of my kids having the dreaded “cholic” as babies, being a dad was both a joy and a gift.
I was an “engaged” dad. I did all the stuff that my dad’s generation neglected. I changed the diapers; I stayed up late with the cholic. I went to every imaginable sporting event that either my son or daughter had (and that involved a LOT of time sitting in the bleachers). I even coached both of my kids in virtually every sport they played.
When my son was 14 years old, I had an epiphany. I realized that neither of my two kids would return home to visit — as adults — if they did not truly like me. I did not want kids who felt obligated to be around me. Nope. I wanted my adult kids to actually enjoy being with me.
So, I began to “date” each of my kids. I would individually take my son and daughter on private dates. The kids cherished those dates! And so did I — and still do.
I remember going camping with my son. Just the two of us in the beauty of Colorado’s landscape. We would stay up talking about everything, as we shared the same tent. The crisp air was mixed with hot chocolate around a morning campfire. There was no topic off limits — and we molded an innate trust in each other. A trust that we share to this day.
Likewise, I remember taking my daughter to see the original cartoon movie “Beauty and the Beast.” In the end, as the beast was about to die, we held hands and wept together. Those one-on-one dates solidified a relationship where we can vent our sadness. Sharing our most private thoughts has always been a hallmark of our relationship.
I am blessed with the two best kids in the world. They seem to think the same thing about me.
My Relationships with My Grandkids
Whenever one of my eight grandkids turns four, I take that child each year on a one-on-one “Papa Birthday Date.” Each of those precious birthday dates involves four ingredients: 1) we do some activity that I know they will like; 2) I give them a gift; 3) we eat a meal at some special place; and 4) we have a birthday cake/treat.
Each of these one-on-one dates is priceless to both of us. Some events have included rock climbing, horseback riding, kid museums, bike rides, special movies, playing Top Golf and many other creative ideas. I cherish each time one of my grandkids excitedly proclaims, “This is my best day ever!”
Recently, I took my son and his family — and my daughter and her family — to celebrate my turning 70 years old. I reserved a Vacation Rentals By Owner home that was truly a mansion! As we opened the front door, the grandkids began squealing with delight — literally running from one room to another! The rental had a swimming pool with an adjacent hot tub. My grandkids would spend all day swimming in the pool or nearby beach. Meanwhile, my adult kids treated me to a wonderful birthday meal and decorations. Additionally, they arranged for a professional photographer to take pictures of us on the beach.
I will never forget all of the love I received and the happy faces on everyone. I am already planning my 75th birthday celebration with all of my family members, God willing!
My Relationship with My Husband
The pain of my marriage with my wife has been redeemed in my marriage to my husband, Reggie.
One of our favorite songs has the refrain, “Love’s more comfortable, the second time around.” Such is definitely true for Reggie and me.
This sounds very sappy, but I truly feel “it was love at first sight.” And we seem to get even stronger with each day.
We share so many important variables. Regarding our unselfish natures, we automatically do for each other what we would naturally do for ourselves. Reggie and I have very similar personalities: planful, loving to touch and be touched, praising each other with our words, and going on special vacations. Most importantly, we both share a profound love for Jesus.
Reggie is phenomenal — and I am so blessed to be his husband.
Such is Not Always the Case for Other Gays
I realize I have a very fortunate life as a gay man.
Many, if not most, gays had sour relationships with dads, moms, or both. Being around their parents is filled with unspoken truths, lack of respect, and often deep hurt. There are parents who refuse to honor their son’s sexual identity or attend his gay wedding. Why can’t a parent love their gay son unconditionally? Such seems to be so rare.
Only one in ten gay men choose to get married. And that statistic has stayed stable despite increased opportunities for gay marriages. Why the reluctance to get married? Perhaps it’s because they despise marriage and see no need to formally say “I do.” Maybe it is because they are content as a single person — and yet, gays are famous for being “lonely.”
Not all gay couples desire to have children. Such may not be in alignment with their life goals. And not all gay couples are permitted to adopt children. Biases against gay marriage still hold sway for some parents who give up their children for adoption.
And, of course, without raising your children, one forfeits the ability to have grandchildren. There are currently no research statistics on the number of gay grandparents, but I do know this: having grandchildren changes you for the better.
Conclusion
I feel so fortunate to have had my father. And I’m grateful for my first marriage to my wife, where we created a loving family of kids and grandkids. I am also blessed to have kids who enjoy our one-on-one dates — even at their present age. And it delights me whenever I arrive, and the grandkids come running to see me, screaming, “Papa!” And I have the privilege of enjoying each day of my remaining life with the one man who means the world to me.
Come to think of it, I have lived the most unusual gay Christian life ever.
Dr. Mike Rosebush (Ph.D., Counseling Psychology; he, him, his;) is the creator and editor of GAYoda, plus a writer for Backyard Church. A short synopsis of Dr. Rosebush’s life can be found at I Lived the Most Unusual Gay Christian Life Ever. He may be contacted at mikerosebush75@gmail.com.
