A reader writes:
I’m a gay widower whose husband, age 54, died last year of an unexpected heart attack. Unfortunately, despite my reminders, he had neglected to do all those good things like making a will, etc.; thus, predictable unpleasantness followed with his family, and there I was, alone with just our little fuzzy dog, in a cow-patty-size, homophobic town far out on the prairie, without any of the protections of law in this gothically conservative state. I’ll skip the tedious details – nothing much really dramatic happened, save some nasty conversations; by the grace of God, I happened to have some savings in the bank and was able to move on the spur of the moment, just a week after the funeral, sans almost all of what belonged to my husband – let me tell you, it was a feeling and an experience I’ll never forget.
So forgive me if I say that the word "conservative" has a really bad taste in my mouth now; I used to feel somewhat conservative, but when your whole life as well as your home – our home – disappears overnight due to the oh-so-righteous attitudes of your friends, neighbors, and family, well – you get the picture. I cried when I watched the broadband video of the vote not to revisit the equal marriage issue in Canada last week – because I know exactly what that means in concrete terms. If it stands there, and I think it will now, it will come to the U.S. eventually, even to Texas; and can’t come too soon to suit me.
Pity Canada is so far north, ya know? All that ice and snow …
The Dish 