The Ice Floe: Daddy and Papa and Eddie and Me

Did you know that today is GLBT family day? I read The Other Mother, and was informed of this. Some group (I can't remember which one) is calling for blog posts about GLBT families. Since I'm home on the couch with a super nasty summer cold, I thought I'd give it a try.

I believe in GLBT families because I believe in children having families.
I believe in GLBT families because I believe in equal rights of all types.
But mostly I believe in GLBT families because of Angela.

Angela (don't call her Angie) lived with her daddy, her papa, and her brother Eddie. They had a big pale blue house right on the waterfront in the small town where I did my seminary internship. The town was small, mostly working class, but had a stretch of waterfront where a few wealthier families lived.

The church was very small. The sanctuary seated just 75, so we had two services. We had prime real estate--only 2 blocks to the beach, but an aging building and a congregation of plumbers and food service workers and assistant managers at McDonald's restaurants. They were good people.

I suppose some eyebrows must have been raised when Daddy and Papa joined the church. I didn't notice it, though. They walked to church together every Sunday, sat together, lived together in the fancy house. It wasn't rocket science.

Daddy sang in the choir. Papa joined the building and grounds committee. They took their turns as ushers and liturgists and pancake flippers for the youth group fundraiser. The congregation was so thrilled to have two new members, youngish men even! , who were willing to participate. If they noticed the unusual family structure, they made no mention of it. At least not to me.

And when Daddy adopted Eddie and Papa adopted Angela , the little family was complete. The day after Eddie's adoption was legalized in the US, Daddy and Papa brought their offspring to the church to be 'bap-a-tized' in Angela's words.

Angela wore a pink dress, a cotton candy cloud that poofed out to her sides. Her white anklets had lace, and her T strap Mary-Janes were new and shiny. Her shiny black hair mirrored the shoes, and a perfect pink ribbon was attached to the top of her head. Eddie had on a little suit with shorts and knee socks. A clip on blue bow tie and a brand new haircut completed the picture perfect look. The family of four walked up the sidewalk together, with linked hands.

Because Angela was 4, she got to answer some of her own baptismal questions. The pastor crawled down to her level and interviewed her. He skipped the microphone. Only a few of us could hear her voice, at first.
"Do you want to be baptized?"
"YES!"
"Why do you want to be baptized?"
"I love Jesus"
"Do you want to be in the church family?"
"uh-huh."

silence.
"Daddy and Papa and Eddie and Me and Jesus, too. That's our family."

The pastor broke into a huge grin.

"And you can be in the family, too," she offered.

Then she shouts,
"Everyone can be in our family!"

And the bus drivers and the grandmas, and the hair dressers and the food service workers smiled, in spite of themselves, in spite of their Republican Party Membership Cards, and their NASCAR vacations and all of the many ways that my small mind tried to stereotype them into a corner. Applause broke out, and the children beamed. Daddy and Papa smiled shyly, and Papa's mother and sister, visiting from Philadelphia, both cried.

We never talked about it later, the church members and I. I don't know what they thought. I don't know if minds were changed, or if they'd been supportive all along.

Eddie and Angela and their parents moved away two years later, to a big city where they probably found more families like theirs.

I remember all the pictures after their baptism, and know that these are probably carefully pasted in their baby books, just like the coming home pictures and birthday shots.

The picture of that little family on bap-a-tism day lives on in my mind's eye, though I never saw it in person. Every time I baptize a child, I remember Angela and Eddie and their parents, little Angela that showed us all that there's plenty of room in the family of God.