Congratulations on Patching Things Up with Your Gay Son!

You stopped talking to your son about four years ago when he told you he was gay.  You responded by throwing a pitcher of water at the wall of the restaurant and screaming for five minutes straight.  Then you stomped out of the building and threw a garbage can into a police car.

Luckily the officers affected were tremendous homophobes, so their gay-hate outweighed their rage at seeing their precious car damaged.  They let you off with a verbal warning and an invitation for a “people negatively affected by gay children” support group. 

You thought about him constantly, even as your festering hatred for the thought of two men embracing one another metasticized in your imagination like a cancer.  It grew and grew in size until finally, a month ago, you emailed your son, asking if you could meet him.

He said maybe, pending an interview process.

The last few weeks have constituted that process: furtive, overwritten emails, qualified apologies, and slow, steady movement towards reconciliation.

Today it’s going to come to a head.  You’re going to meet your son and his husband in a small café near the university where your son teaches.  It’s famed for serving big, heaping plates of food and permitting people to sit outdoors and smoke if they like.  It’s very bohemian and, in your mind, the perfect place to showcase your newfound support for your son’s decision to be himself.

You’ll catch up with him in fast motion, falling into geniality easily, rapidly, running through the last four years in rapid asides: relationships, promotions, books, movies, travel.  You’ll show him pictures on your cellphone of your new wife holding her cellphone.  Your son will laugh.  For the first time, he won’t seem to hate her.

“I’m glad you found someone,” he’ll tell you over a heaping patty melt.

“Me too,” you’ll murmur, looking at his husband affectionately.  His husband will smile back over his tea.

At this point your son will go to the bathroom.  And you, in what you’ll later consider an effort to show your support for your son’s sexuality, you’ll lunge across the table and, boop, plant a kiss right on his husband’s mouth.

You’ll both be into it, and you’ll both be somewhat embarrassed by the whole event.  It’ll last less than half a minute.  Neither of you will say a word to your son when he gets back from the bathroom.  You’ll just sit, politely talk, and then leave.  You won’t see each other until your son’s Christmas party later that year.  Even then, nothing will be said.  You’ll never know if he told your son what transpired during his bathroom visit, a fear that will plague you to your grave.

Congratulations on Patching Things Up with Your Gay Son!