I’ve been a single parent for the past couple days. Rob has gone back down to Moab to take care of his aunt. She has just had some pretty serious surgery, serious physically and emotionally, and we’re very glad to lend a hand.
Man, each time I do double duty I’m left with a great respect for those who do it everyday, such as this amazing guy. I’m left with that respect, and an equally great desire for my man back and a nap. Between school, soccer practice, dinner, laundry, a traumatic scare that the dog may have eaten the parakeet (who was just hiding in a house plant), and someone getting a nightmare and deciding to sleep in my bed, in which he promptly peed, well, I’m pining for Rob’s return.
Is it just me or are gays the go-to general caretakers of their families? We nursed Rob’s parents back to health over months after a vehicle accident; it just seemed like a forgone conclusion that we were to take on that job. Before children, we’ve taken in wayward teens from our families in hopes of setting them straight, so to speak. Heck, our two best gay friends both have moved their parents in with their families to care for them in their old age. None of our other friends have done so. Though there are many other siblings, aunts and so on who could and do help, it kind of is a traditional role for gays, who historically didn’t have children of their own to care for, isn’t it? It does make evolutionary sense, in a way, particularly when you consider the Fraternal Birth Order Effect.
Even though we are parents, stepping in such situations still somehow just feels like our place. And don’t get me wrong, I’m glad we can… I just miss my man.
It was a cute surprise. He left notes on all our pillows, to find the night after he left. Most of my letter’s contents are personal :-), but he did write something that got me thinking on this. With his back and my hand we’ve taken turns being very reliant on each other lately, and it isn’t the first or last time. This aunt he’s caring for is divorced and has no children. She’s a great woman, I love her a lot and our boys simply adore her, but how difficult and unnerving must it be to be in that position? Your family members all have their own spouses and children to care for and, in turn, to care for them, and not everyone has a gay nephew as wonderful as my Rob (he said he’s not going to read my blog anymore so that I’d feel free to write nice stuff about him in public :-)).
I guess I worry about a lot of things regarding my family. What law will they try to pass against us next legislative session? What bullies will our boys encounter? What happens to our estate if I die too soon, in, say, an accident? But what I don’t worry a bit about is who will care for me once time has its way and my body begins to deteriorate. I’m indescribably grateful to know, right now, there would be at least three pairs of hands to hold by my bedside.
I just want one of those pairs of hands to get home soon!