EXTENDED FAMILY VALUES, PART II
As a policy analyst, I'm none too sure about the wisdom of San Francisco granting marriage licenses to gay and lesbian couples, in apparent defiance of California law. (As an aside, this is hardly the first time an official flouted statutory law in favor of a personal interpretation of the California constitution. Secretary of State March Fong Eu did it, for instance, when she allowed Ron Unz to run for governor in defiance of residency requirements) As I predicted, all political hell has broken loose as Massachusetts and San Francisco have pushed the issue.
As a person, however, I was thrilled to hear from my sisters-in-law, Pam Postrel and Mindy Blum, that they'd driven all night from L.A. to San Francisco to tie the knot. (You have no idea how hard it is to get a Postrel to have a wedding....) They love each other, and I love them. They are wonderful people. They are--both of them--part of my family, regardless of what the law decrees.
I asked Pam, whose name will be familiar to regular blog readers, if she had thoughts she'd like to share with the world. Last week she sent the following:
Dear Virginia,
Ever since your kind invitation to share our thoughts on our marriage experience, I've wanted to get it all down, but I did my usual procrastinating.
I wanted to write about all the levels on which it resonated with us... some expected, some surprising, even to us.
I wanted to write about the incredible warmth and enthusiasm of the volunteers and employees of the City of San Francisco, who seemed genuinely delighted to be participating in this moment in history.
About the beauty of the people in line with us... the camaraderie, the instant connection to these couples who, like us, always said that if it was ever legal, they'd get married. (There was a couple behind us who drove in from Las Vegas. How ironic is that?)
About the moment of utter joy when we faced each other to exchange vows and realized that through nineteen years of ups and downs, the conception and raising of two children, all the apartments rented, the purchase of our house, the career support we've provided each other, the disappointments, the knock-down drag-outs... that we still actively and passionately wanted to say "I do." The emotion of that moment flooded us in a way it never could for those who have the freedom to rush into marriage. (If it's possible there's an advantage to this gross discrimination, I guess that's it.)
About the real sense of belonging and acceptance (in spite of ourselves) as we received our marriage license LIKE EVERY OTHER TAX-PAYING CITIZEN IN THIS COUNTRY.
About waking up the next morning in a hastily-acquired hotel room at The Four Seasons in San Francisco in the most comfortable bed I've ever been in with... my wife.
About the six-hour drive home, where Mindy and I kept looking at each other with stupid grins saying, "We're married." And "How cool is this?"
About the director of our kids' school high-fiving Mindy... and the office full of balloons and thrilled colleagues I came back to after our not-quite 48-hour whirlwind excursion to San Francisco.
About the surprise of hearing our seven-year old daughter, who wasn't sure she was totally into this whole moms-getting-married thing, sing-songing into the phone to me days after the blessed event: "I have married parents, I have married parents."
I wanted to write about the humorous Postrel phenomenon of being the marryin' kind, but the wedding kind... not so much.
But I'm not feeling too damned humorous today. This morning I sat on my bed putting on my socks and watched the President of the United States of America declare war on my family. No, it wasn't unexpected. But, like the ceremony at the center of this whole hubbub, it had an unexpected emotional impact on me and, I'm sure the 3,300 others who've gotten married so far.
I wish I had written this before this morning's development. Well, as of today we're still married, dammit. And here are some photos. Told ya we were happy.
