“Your mom has a girlfriend, ew! She’s going to hell and you’ll probably be just like her, gay!”
When that is being screamed at you from across the lunch table, it is hard not to fight, cry, run away or all of the above. When I was seven my mom introduced me to her friend. She was a very nice lady who played video games with me. At the time my mom had a lot of friends, so I thought, “my mom has the best, funniest friend ever.”
We would all go to the movies together. She would help with my homework and pick me up from school when my mom was working late. For the next six years, I would grow to know her as Angie, a woman who my mom and I were very close to.
I could see the dirty looks, heard the comments and saw the way others did not want to assist them just because of their relationship.
When I was 13 it happened. My mom burst open my door, and grabbed her throat. I had no time to adjust. She rushed over to my bed holding her inhaler and tried to speak while gasping for air.
I yell, “What, what mom answer me what do you want me to do?” I held her hand and tried to calm her down. She brought me into the living room of our apartment.
“The window,” she whispers with strain on her throat. I open the sliding door that led out to our balcony. I grab the phone and dial 911. As I try to explain the situation to the operator, my mom sits down on the floor, her eyes becoming red and teary.
Moments later the paramedics arrive running up the three flights of stairs to get to us. My mom is given a pen and paper on which she writes, “I don’t want to die.” She is taken to the hospital and I called Angie and let her know what happened. She raced over from her place to take me to the hospital. There, we waited in the ER for news of my mom. When we were called back to the room the doctor asked what turned out to be an earth-shattering question. “Who are you to the patient ma’am? he asks, Angie replies, “I’m her partner.”
I am stunned. I knew what that term meant but I never made the connection in their relationship. The doctor said that the asthma attack was brought on by a tumor in a part of my mom’s lung. A couple weeks later the earth shattering news was delivered to me by word of my mom that she had stage four cancer. A growth on her right shoulder formed and swelled. During that talk she expressed that she was a fighter and that everything was going to be okay. She and Angie decided to move back to Pennsylvania where the rest of my mom’s family lived. To be closer to them in her final moments was the most important reason for moving.
“I’m not going, I don’t want to move after this summer, I’m going to be an eighth grader and graduating with my friends you can’t make me.”
I said this with tears running down my face because my world was ending. The feeling that I could possibly lose my mom, my friends and the life I had made scared me.
After weeks of not packing or talking about the move to either of them, my mom told me that I had no choice and that I should not make this harder than it already was on her. The summer passed and so did my birthday. On Sept. 20th everyone at my middle school said happy birthday all day long. Balloons, cards, cupcakes and well wishes reminded me once again that this would not be my reality every year like before. By Oct. 1st we arrived in Philly, my uncle had picked us up from the airport and brought us to his house in Sharon Hill. My mom and Angie’s room was right next to mine on the first floor of my uncles house.
My mom’s treatment and health insurance became the first priority. Angie did not have health insurance at the time. Despite looking into marriage so that both would have full coverage, it was not yet recognized in the state.
In the middle of eighth grade, here I am in a new school with no previous friends that I grew up with like everyone else had. It took all of about two hours for me to make two friends, who in time would help me laugh, focus and enjoy my new area.
I had not told many of my friends about their relationship, only a few of my close friends knew. I felt that the scrutiny received before would be too much to handle at this point in my life.
The next few years of high school were going well. We had moved from my uncle’s and into a house of our own. I had made many more close friendships while getting to know the family here that I used to only see twice a year on vacation. I thought that my mom was doing great because that is what I was told.
On a Saturday during my rehearsals for the musical Angie called to tell me that my mom was taken to the hospital. That day Angie,my family, and I went to the hospital. The doctors said it was fluid in her lungs. Later in the afternoon she was moved to a different room and the fluid was drained. After three days of being in the hospital, her doctors said there was nothing more they could do. My mom’s body was not accepting any treatment.
The cancer won.
The next day it was my decision to remove the tube and let her go. The funeral was even harder, to watch everyone be so sad and say their goodbyes was unreal. When you lose a parent you just feel numb, confused and empty like you can’t even think of what to do five minutes ahead of time.
A couple weeks later, I returned to school, still numb but trying to get through junior year. Angie now had to figure out how to take over the rent, cable and all other bills.
In the state of Pennsylvania for someone to become a legal guardian you must show that both parents do not wish to claim the child. With my mother deceased and my biological father’s whereabouts unknown, this was not too easy a task. An investigator was hired to try and track him down, weeks later absolutely no luck as if he vanished. In the court proceedings it was in our best interests to say that Angie was a lifelong family friend.
This was to keep the conservative bulldogs at bay so the focus would be on the paper work and my needs. Not only do you see before you a lesbian couple but an interracial couple at that.
Yes, Angie was awarded full guardianship over me and it was a relief to not have another thing weighing on our shoulders.
Three years later, today I can say that I appreciate everything my mom and Angie did for us. It is not easy no matter what city you live in for a lesbian couple to raise a child, work and make a life all while one has a serious disease.
The sacrifices and support from both of them is what gives me purpose and determination.
I owe it all to my wonderful example of a strong woman, my mom. And, of course to Angie, a woman whose commitment is unparalleled.
Very moving piece. Thanks for sharing your loving story.
Very moving piece. Thanks for sharing your loving story.