The Choice Not To Come Out to My Late Grandmother Haunts Me to This Day
The hardest conversation with her was the one I never had, scarring my lasting grief over her death
During a recent visit with my cousin, he told me a rather remarkable and moving anecdote. As we sat on his couch yacking our heads off, he related how his late grandmother — the wife of my grandmother’s brother — had called him up one day and asked if he was gay. When he told her that he was, she responded that she just wanted to make sure that he was okay and asked him whether he needed any money. As a coming-out-to-grandparents tale, this one, I must say, was remarkably positive.
At the same time, I have to admit that I was also a bit surprised by it. Knowing my great-aunt as I did, I wouldn’t have pegged her as being the type of person to be so nonchalant about her only grandson being gay but, as the saying goes, life is full of surprises.
More than that, I was also a bit jealous. Like my cousin, I’d had a very strong and deep relationship with my maternal grandmother who was, I think it’s safe to say, more of a second mother to me. Unlike him, however, I’d never told her that I was gay, and she was willing to leave well enough alone and continue believing that I was straight. Right up to the end of her…
