Lifestyle
By Morgan Larkin
Updated: August 3, 2016
Originally Published: June 28, 2015
When I heard the Supreme Court’s decision affirming marriage equality that Friday morning, I couldn’t contain my excitement. My children were with me, and naturally, they were curious about my joy. I attempted to explain the significance of the ruling and why it was so crucial. They know and cherish several LGBTQ+ individuals, and they were puzzled as to why a Supreme Court ruling was necessary for our friends to have equal rights. They accepted my enthusiasm, but I held back a more profound truth from them.
My father, their grandfather, was gay. A respected attorney who had argued before the Supreme Court, he passed away from AIDS when I was just eight years old—one of the earliest cases in Florida. At the time, the reasons behind his death were shrouded in secrecy. I was too young to understand why I became the target of my classmates’ ostracism. This was in 1982, a time when misinformation about AIDS was rampant, leading many to believe it could be transmitted through casual contact.
Eventually, I had to switch to a private school and later moved away from Florida, but I sensed there was a hidden truth. I kept asking questions until, years later, I confronted my mother, “He had AIDS, didn’t he?” She confirmed it, and I learned as much of the story as she could share. Unfortunately, by the time the doctors understood what was happening, my father was already in a coma, leaving many unanswered questions. A close friend of his, Sarah, filled in some gaps, revealing his relationships with men, one of whom had also passed away.
What I remember most about my dad are the little details: his neatly pressed jeans, his colorful Izod shirts, and his love for classic cars, especially his white MG. He was an avid baker, delighting us with “surprise cookies” filled with M&Ms. A photography enthusiast, he captured a prize-winning photo of my baby sister, who was just a year old when he died. He even took me for a ride in the Goodyear blimp when I was six. After that, he fell ill, experiencing a series of hospital stays until the night he collapsed just after my eighth birthday. He never returned home.
I vividly recall the night he died; I was too stunned to cry. Why had no one prepared me for this loss? The memorial service is etched in my memory too. I wore pantyhose for the first time, and a family friend gifted me a pair of nice shoes. We sang his favorite songs, including “Morning Has Broken” and “Amazing Grace.” Children adapt, and so I moved on, rarely discussing my father to avoid upsetting my mother, who was already struggling to raise my younger sister and me alone.
The next time I thought about my dad was in college, when “Philadelphia” was released. The film mirrored my father’s life, and watching Tom Hanks’ character deteriorate brought everything flooding back. I remained in the theater long after the credits rolled, unable to stop crying.
As time has passed, I’ve shared my father’s story with more people. With growing acceptance of LGBTQ+ individuals and decreased stigma around AIDS, it’s a narrative that feels less charged now. Yet, it will take time before I feel ready to tell my children about their grandfather’s true identity. We will watch “Philadelphia” together, and I will share what I know: his love for books, gadgets, and Star Wars, and how much he would have adored being a part of their lives.
Later that day, after the kids were tucked in, I reached out to my closest LGBTQ+ friends to express my love and support. I shared a photo of my father and me on social media with the hashtag #LoveWins. In that moment, I finally allowed myself to cry.
I cried for the world my father deserved—a world where he wouldn’t have felt the need to hide who he was. I wept for the time lost, for the connection we never had, and for the belief that if he had lived just a little longer, he would have known there was absolutely nothing shameful about his identity.
We’ve made significant progress, and love ultimately triumphs. It just doesn’t always happen soon enough.
For those intrigued by the journey of parenthood, consider exploring resources like this one on home insemination kits or check out this article for guidance on navigating postpartum experiences. Additionally, the Genetics and IVF Institute offers valuable insights into the complexities of pregnancy and home insemination.
Summary: In this heartfelt reflection, the author shares the emotional impact of the Supreme Court’s marriage equality decision on their life, revealing the secret of their father’s identity and the struggles faced due to societal stigma around AIDS. While celebrating progress in LGBTQ+ rights, the author also reflects on personal loss and the journey toward acceptance.