I went to a funeral a little over a week ago, one of a woman I didn't know well but well enough. One of her daughters is the closest friend of my daughter, and that was more than enough for me to want to pay my respects.
As it happens, this woman was one who fell in love with and lived with another woman. They didn't stay together forever, but they did remain close and raised their two daughters together. They set good examples and instilled excellent values--fairness, honesty, compassion--in their children. I can't tell you much about the deceased (and I am sorry about that) other than what I heard in the eulogies and observed the few times we met, but I can tell you about her children, and they are lovely, among the most admirable people of any age I know.
The two women who raised them were not legally able, in the years they were together, to marry in the state where I live (or at that time, any other). They did not have the protection of the government in many areas. Had the illness that took her happened even when the two women were raising their lovely daughters, there would have been no guarantee that one could have even visited the other in the hospital. There was no provision to share health care insurance coverage. Had it happened when the children were under the age of 18, custody could certainly have become an issue--the girls might have been taken from their mother.
Now, I am not a man of faith but I do respect those who are. And I believe in your right to think whatever you think. I even respect your right to assert these two women were living some kind of abhorrent lifestyle that you think they chose or could have reversed with some willpower or fervent prayer. You can believe as you believe.
You might think your book of faith would condemn these two women. You might think they are an accident of nature or that they are sinners who should have turned their backs on their own nature and repented. Perhaps any objection you have is not at all faith-based but rooted in a belief that there is a natural order to things and these people flew in the face of that. You are entitled to those views as I am entitled to mine.
But if you were to have met either of their daughters, seen what kind of young women they are, and then have seen the pain in their eyes when they had to lay one of their mothers to rest, I think you might come to the same conclusion that I would have already reached:
You're just wrong.
The inevitable commercial: The Question of the Unfamiliar Husband, the second Asperger's Mystery, is now available from Midnight Ink (hi, Terri!) at booksellers online and off. If you have questions, you know where to find me.